"You have my blessing!"
Paliser laughed and bowed. He was in it, it was where he wanted to be and he liked it. But in view of existing domestic arrangements, he was in it a bit too soon and, wriggling through a mesh, he stopped laughing and looked solemn.
"You are very good. But beforehand my father will expect to be consulted and, just at present, that is impossible. The physicians would forbid it."
"The poor dear old man! You don't mean——"
Paliser half raised a hand. The gesture was slight but expressive. One never knew!
But so much the better, thought Mrs. Austen. Pending the delay she could so bombard the bait, bombard her day in, day out, and the whole night through, that, like Liège and Namur, her resistance would crumble, and meanwhile he would come in for everything, or nearly everything, she reflected, and the reflection prompting, she affected concern.
"Has your sister been informed?"
"I cabled her to-day," said Paliser, who had done nothing of the kind.
With the same concern, Mrs. Austen lied as freely. "It is too sad for words." But at once the air of the sympathiser departed, replaced by that of the hostess. Through one door the men were entering. Through another came the girls.
Kate Schermerhorn approached. "Dear Mrs. Austen, Margaret's all right, but she has a headache." As she spoke, she threw a glance at Cantillon.