[Illustration: She dashed from the room in a spasm of mirth.]
William at once retired to the study with Henry, presumably for a chat, but chiefly, as I afterwards discovered, to remove his right boot for an hour's respite. He left early, limping heavily.
'It is really most curious about William,' I said to Marion as we sat alone in the drawing-room—Henry having remained in the study to finish some work. 'One can hardly conceive a reason strong enough to induce him to renounce his aboriginal mode of living and become so highly civilized almost in a day.'
Marion lowered her head, and I thought she looked self-conscious. 'A man might do a thing like that for—for love,' she murmured.
I blushed slightly. 'I scarcely think it's more than a passing infatuation.'
'I feel convinced it's stronger than that,' she replied tensely.
'I hope not,' I said in an alarmed tone. 'It would be horrid to see the poor fellow in the throes of a hopeless passion.'
'Perhaps after all it might not be quite hopeless,' rejoined Marion softly.
I raised my head sharply. 'I don't think you are justified in that remark,' I said stiffly, 'what you saw between him and me was only a little harmless fun. As if, indeed, there is any man living who could make me forget dear old Henry for a minute——'
'You!' exclaimed Marion with a start. 'I wasn't thinking of you, Netta.'