Mr Courtney did not like the style of address adopted by his overseer, but he scarcely knew how to resent it. He was half afraid to tell him to speak out. What if Maraquita had really been light of conduct, and employed her leisure time in flirting with his overseer? It would be a very embarrassing discovery, but not an unnatural one, when De Courcelles’ extreme beauty and grace of form were taken into consideration. So he thought it prudent to change the topic.
‘Well, well,’ he said testily, ‘we are not here to discuss Miss Courtney’s conduct, but your own. You have not been quite the same as usual lately, De Courcelles. I have observed an unsteadiness, and a disposition to sloth in you, which has grieved me. Come now, let us talk this matter over like two men of the world. We will suppose you have had a slight predilection for my daughter. I am not surprised at it, and I do not blame you; but you must have known it could never be anything more. Well, in a few weeks she will be married, and pass out of your life. What is the use of spoiling the rest of it for her sake? Why not settle down and make a home for yourself? If you were married, all this little unpleasantness would be smoothed away.’
‘That is easy to say, Mr Courtney, but not so easy to do.’
‘I don’t agree with you. There is a nice girl close to your elbow, of whom I spoke to you at the same time I mentioned my daughter. I mean Lizzie Fellows. Ah, you start! You have heard this rumour about her, I suppose, in common with others, and fancy it is true. But I am sure it is not, De Courcelles. I have known Lizzie from a child, and I would stake my life upon her honesty.’
‘You allude to the infant of which she was left in charge, sir?’
‘I am glad to hear you mention it like that. It proves you believe her story. You told me there was no engagement between you, but Mrs Courtney informs me there was, and you broke it off on account of this child. But women jump at conclusions so: perhaps she is mistaken.’
De Courcelles was quite capable of defending himself.
‘Miss Fellows and I were not regularly engaged at the time you spoke to me, sir, nor have we been since. Only when Lizzie refused to give me any explanation concerning her nurse-child, I said in my haste that want of confidence was the death of friendship, and that we had better not meet again.’
‘And you regret so hasty a decision?’
‘Why do you ask me, sir?’