She was much too formally polite to make them feel at their ease, and with a word dismissed her daughter, on the plea of removing her wraps, thus leaving the Secretary to his fate.
Once they were alone, her Ladyship surveyed the young man deliberately through her lorgnettes, and when she had made him sufficiently nervous, remarked in a chilling tone that she trusted her daughter had caught no cold from walking so late in the park.
The Secretary acquiesced, and then the Marchioness opened the attack in earnest.
"We—my daughter—has had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of you lately, Mr. Stanley."
"Er, yes," he replied, scenting danger. "Of course it's been a great pleasure to me."
"Still," she continued, "it is not usual for a young lady, unchaperoned, to walk in the park with a gentleman at this hour; a gentleman who is, shall we say, a mere acquaintance."
"The matter was one of necessity," he replied shortly. "We lost our way."
"Mrs. Roberts has driven me over her grounds repeatedly, and it appears to me to be quite impossible for anyone to really lose his way."
"Deference to your Ladyship's opinion prevents me from saying more."
"It is certainly not pleasant," resumed the Dowager, ignoring his last remark, "to continue this conversation, and, were my late husband living, I should naturally have left the matter to him; as it is, my duty as a mother and my desire for dear Isabelle's welfare bids me——"