“He writes in tolerable spirits. Odd, wasn’t it, his coming across those girls?”
“Very odd.”
“Things are—awfully odd. I’ve made a sort of acquaintance lately—some people called Grey—live at Kensington. They’re very musical and know all sorts of people.”
“Indeed!” said Hugh.
“Yes, I was there to-night. Such a nice house they have! One of the pleasantest places to drop in at—no stiffness or formality. They’ve got some cousins—Italians.” Here James began to stir the salt violently. “They’re expecting them to stay. Just imagine my surprise when I heard they were the two Matteis!”
Hugh set down his wine-glass, and looked entirely confounded. He did not speak a word, but fixed his eyes on his brother in silence.
“She lost her voice, it seems,” said James; “and they asked her to come for a change with her sister.”
“Is she still engaged to be married?” said Hugh, hurriedly.
“Why, that’s what I can’t make out,” said Jem. “Arthur thought not, you see; but, from what her aunt told me, I think there may be some idea of it. I don’t think it’s impossible—”
“You need not alarm yourself,” suddenly interrupted Hugh. “The danger’s over. Whatever right I once thought I had to please myself in that way I have none now, and my life must have other objects.”