“Are you surprised? You needn’t look so incredulous! I give you my word that this is ’Arriet Brandt—the same young lady that knew Mrs. Pullen and her brother-in-law and Miss Leyton over at Heyst. What sort of a character ’ave they been giving ’er be’ind ’er back?”
“Indeed, I assure you, Madame—” commenced Mr. Pennell, deprecatingly.
“You needn’t take the trouble to tell any tarradiddles about it! I can see it in your face! I didn’t think much of that cousin of yours from the beginning; ’e’s got a shifty sort of look, and as for that cold bit of goods, Miss Leyton, well, all I say is, God ’elp the man that marries ’er, for she’s enough to freeze the sun himself! But I liked Mrs. Pullen well enough, and I was sorry to ’ear that she ’ad lost ’er baby, for she was quite wrapt up in it! But I daresay she’ll soon ’ave another!”
Without feeling it incumbent on him to enter into an argument as to the probability of the Baroness’s last suggestion, Anthony Pennell was glad of the digression, as it gave him an opportunity of slurring over the dangerous subject of Ralph Pullen’s character.
“The loss of her child was a very great blow to my poor cousin,” he replied, “and she is still suffering from it, bitterly. Else, I have no doubt that you would have seen something of her—and the others,” he added in a lower tone. After a slight interval, he ventured to raise his eyes and see how the girl opposite to him had taken what was said, but it did not appear to have made much impression on her—she was, on the contrary, gazing at him with that magnetic glance of hers as though she wanted to read into his very soul.
“Don’t go and say that I want to see ’em,” said the Baroness as, having devoured enough cake and bread and butter to feed an ordinary person for a day, she rose and led the way into another room. “I don’t want to see anybody at the Red ’Ouse that doesn’t want to come, and I ’aven’t expected the ladies. But as for Captain Pullen, ’oo made an engagement to follow our party to Brussels, and then never took the trouble to write a line to excuse ’imself for breaking ’is word, why, I say ’e’s a jerry sneak, and you may tell ’im so if you like! We didn’t want ’im. ’E proposed to come ’imself, and I engaged ’is room and everything, and then ’e skedaddled without a word, and I call it beastly be’aviour. You mustn’t mind my plain speaking, Mr. Pennell. I always say what I think! And I would like to break my stick over Captain Pullen’s back and that’s the truth.”
They were walking along the passage now, on their way to the Baron’s library—the Baroness in front with her hand leaning heavily on Pennell’s shoulder, and Harriet lingering a little behind. Anthony Pennell pondered awhile before he replied. Was this the time to announce Ralph’s intended marriage. How would the girl behind them take it?
He turned slightly and looked at her face as the thought passed through his mind. Somehow the eyes that met his reassured him. He began to think it must be a mistake—that she did not care for Ralph as much as Mrs. Pullen had supposed—that she was only offended perhaps (as her hostess evidently was) by the curt and uncivil manner in which he had treated them both. So he replied,
“I have not the slightest excuse to make for my cousin’s conduct, Madame Gobelli. It appears to me that he has treated you with very scant civility, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. But as you know, his little niece’s death was very sudden and unexpected, and the least he could do was to escort his sister-in-law and Miss Leyton back to England, and since then——”
“Well! and what since then?” demanded the Baroness, sharply.