It was that which had weighed upon her, with its implication of her husband's inadequacy. The fact that she had allowed the Marchese to tell her that he loved her, appeared to her to be relatively of no importance.
"You shouldn't tell fibs," said Nicholas serenely.
Lily was silent from sheer disconcertment.
"What are you downcast about?" he asked affectionately. "I've been so disgustingly busy lately, I haven't had any talks with my little wife. That fellow didn't worry you, did he?"
"Not in himself," Lily said confusedly, making an effort to give her real thoughts to her husband.
She was not surprised when he failed to follow her bungling attempt.
"Not in himself, eh? Well, he's a splendid fellow, della Torre, full of brains, and I don't blame him if he got a little bit above his boots, eh?"
She had scarcely ever hear Nicholas say a word in condemnation of anyone, and although the thought touched her, she was also impatient of his lack of discrimination.
"Nicholas, it was partly my own fault, that the Marchese thought that I should like him to make love to me a little bit."
"Was it, by Jove!" Nicholas refused to take the matter at all seriously.