At once she went downstairs again and entered the adjacent room, intending to make her appearance by the curtained door. As she stood with her hand on the lock, the door being slightly ajar, she heard Guinaud's voice raised in triumph.
"Of course, monsieur, you will now permit me to be a suitor for the hand of Mees Mar-rson?"
Hardly believing her ears, Judith listened intently for Marson's reply, but when it came it was so low that she could not hear it, and she only gathered its purport from the next observation of the Frenchman.
"You must! Remember, I know all."
"I cannot! I cannot! Besides, my daughter is ill—seriously ill."
"Ah, bah! she will get well, the dear angel."
"But she is to marry Mr. Spolger."
"Quite a mistake, monsieur. She is to marry me! Eh, what do you say?"
"No."
Guinaud and Marson both turned round, to see Judith standing beside them with a look of anger on her face.