He held the note to her, and she, with an affected air of indifference, took it from him and tossed it into the grate.
"Nothing," she answered, and then, as though ashamed of the falsehood, she looked him bravely in the face. "It was about your clerk."
"Adrian?" he asked. And as she nodded, tremulous still and unprepared for further questions, he added, "I hope you like him."
"You hope I like him?"
"Yes, he is my son."
Eden's hands went to her throat and her eyes to the grate. The note was already in a blaze.
"Yes," Usselex continued, "I have a bit of news for you. He is engaged to Miss Bolton. For a long time her parents objected, but last night they consented. It may be because he was at the opera with you. How small people can be!" he added. "She is a nice girl, though. Adrian told me this morning that he tried to speak to you about her the night I dined with Governor Blanchford, but that you did not seem interested."
"God in Heaven!" gasped Eden, beneath her breath. "If these are your punishments, what then are your rewards?"
Usselex had led her to a seat and taken her unresisting hand in his. For some little time he talked to her, very gently, as it behooves the strong to address the weak. And as he spoke, Mr. Menemon entered, and seeing them hand-locked and side-by-side, he smiled cheerily to himself with the air of a man who learns that all is well.
Usselex stood up at once, but for a little space Eden sat very still, surprised as February at a violet, then rising, she went forward to the window and looked out at the night. From the square beyond came the beat of drums, and on the breeze was borne to her the shrill treble of retreating fifes. And as she loitered at the window, conscious only of a sense of happiness such as she had never known before, her father called to her. She turned at his bidding. In the opposite doorway a servant stood.