"I suppose so," answered Vanbrugh indifferently. "The man who has his eyes open. It is odd, is it not, that the happiness of so many people should be at stake on one day?"
"So many?"
"Well, three at least."
"Three? Are there not four?" asked Dolly, with a smile.
"There is Stubbs, of course," said Vanbrugh thoughtfully; "not to mention a lot of people who would not be particularly glad to see Darche back, on general principles. Well, I am sorry for them all, but I was not thinking of them especially."
"Whom were you thinking of?"
"Some one not concerned in the matter—some one, I cannot say nearest; think of something that rhymes with it. You are fond of hymns and that sort of thing."
"Dearest?" suggested Dolly.
"Yes, 'dearest'; that rhymes, does it not?"
"Yes, that rhymes," assented Dolly, with a little sigh. "Whom were you thinking of?" she asked.