"Quite, and I'm very sorry you asked me the question. I tried hard to prevent you."
"You've succeeded admirably," he said, laughing. "I was afraid you did care."
He held out his hand, and she took it, saying with a little constraint in her manner:
"You're certainly frank."
He was pleased to see that she was only piqued; the speech had been unfortunate; but Lady Isabelle had plenty of common sense, and she realised that his naïve confession had cleared the atmosphere, and made social intercourse possible.
He made another attempt to interest her in general conversation, this time succeeding admirably. And so an hour slipped by unnoticed, until the stern voice of the Dowager recalled them to the realities of life.
"Isabelle," she said coldly, "you are surely forgetting your duty to our hostess, and to me also, it seems."
"I'm coming, mamma," she replied, and left him with a quiet "Good-night."
Stanley felt immensely relieved. That was over; Lady Isabelle and he understood each other now, and his path was clear for—was it to be matrimony after all? He told himself he was a weak fool—that Miss Fitzgerald cared nothing for him; would not take him after last night; that he was under no real obligation and that he was a sentimental idiot—yet, he must see her—for his own sake—to justify himself—to—— He resolutely shut his eyes to the future, and went in search of the lady in question.
Ten minutes later, Belle and he were alone in the most favourable place in the house for a tête-à-tête, a curious old corner, the two sides of which were converted into a capacious seat to which there was but one approach, screened by a heavy curtain on one side and a suit of armour on the other—safe from all observers.