"I? No, but I dare say he will; and I hope so too," says her ladyship, maliciously. "For three long years he has never been to see whether I were well or ill—or pining for him," laughing. "And yet, Molly, I do feel nervous, awfully, ridiculously nervous, at the bare idea of our so soon coming face to face.
"Is he handsome?"
"Ye—es, pretty well. Lanky sort of man, with a good deal of nose, you know, and very little whisker. On my word, now I think of it, I don't think he had any at all."
"Nose?"
"No, whisker. He was clean-shaven, all but the moustache. I suppose you know he was in Ted's regiment for some time?"
"So he told me."
"I wonder what he hasn't told you? Shall I confess, Molly, that I know your secret, and that it was I chose that diamond ring upon your finger? There, do not grudge me your confidence; I have given you mine and anything I have heard is safe with me. Oh, what a lovely blush, and what a shame to waste such a charming bit of color upon me! Keep it for dessert."
"How will Sir Penthony like Mr. Lowry's close proximity?" Molly asks, presently, when she has confessed a few interesting little facts to her friend.
"I hope he won't like it. If I thought I could make him jealous I would flirt with poor Talbot under his nose," says Cecil, with eloquent vulgarity. "I feel spitefully toward him somehow, although our separation was my own contrivance."
"Have you a headache, dear?" Seeing her put her hand to her head.