Mrs. Jasher shrugged her plump shoulders.
“Well, my dear, can't you put two and two together. Of course Sir Frank fell in love with this dark-hued angel.”
“Dark-hued! and I am light-haired. What a compliment!”
“Perhaps Sir Frank wanted a change. He played on white and lost, and therefore stakes his money on black to win. That's the result of having been at Monte Carlo. Besides, this young lady is rich, I understand, and Sir Frank—so he told me—lost much more money at Monte Carlo than he could afford. Well, you don't look pleased.”
Lucy roused herself from a fit of abstraction.
“Oh yes, I am pleased, of course. I suppose, as any woman would, I felt rather hurt for the moment in being forgotten so soon. But, after all, I can't blame Sir Frank for consoling himself. If I am married first, he shall dance at my wedding: if he is married first, I shall dance at his.”
“And you shall both dance at mine,” said Mrs. Jasher. “Why, there is quite an epidemic of matrimony. Well, Donna Inez arrives here with her father in a day, or so. They stop at the Warrior Inn, I believe.”
“That horrid place?”
“Oh, it is clean and respectable. Besides, Sir Frank can hardly ask them to stop in the Fort, and I have no room in this bandbox of mine. However, the two of them—Donna Inez and Frank, I mean—can come here and flirt; so can you and Archie if you like.”
“I fear four people in this room would not do,” laughed Lucy, rising to take her leave. “Well, I hope Sir Frank will marry this lady and that you will become Mrs. Braddock. Only one thing I should like to know.”