“No,” said Barclay decisively; “it isn’t Lady Withers.”
Mr. Carteret looked at his young friend with outward indifference. Inwardly he was experiencing much relief. “When are you going to announce your engagement?” he asked.
Barclay shook his head grimly. “I wish I knew,” he said. “I’m up against it, I fancy.”
“It’s not my business,” said Mr. Carteret, “but I should like to know what you mean.”
“Why, in a word, Carty,” said Barclay, “I’m not it, that’s all, and the situation is such that I don’t see what I can do to make her change her mind.”
Mr. Carteret looked perplexed. What he had seen in the hall gave him a feeling of guilt. “When did she refuse you?” he asked at last.
“She hasn’t refused me,” answered Barclay. “You don’t ask a woman to marry you when you know that she cares for some one else.”
“So she cares for some one else?” observed Mr. Carteret.
“You could guess whom,” said Barclay.