The "other one," in the mean time, walked meekly on towards the carriage with Helen tucked under his elbow, thus freeing Sir Henry from his embarrassment, and leaving him at leisure to devote his attentions to Mrs. Battersea, who was, indeed, by no means inclined to let him off.
Mrs. Lascelles followed on the arm of Picard, who behaved as well as he could, though he would rather have taken Helen; these were succeeded by Jin and Frank Vanguard, apparently very well pleased with each other and thoroughly disposed to accept the situation.
I know not what Frank whispered, but gather that it was something complimentary by his companion's answer.
"We're not the only ones!" said Jin, looking up from under a scarlet hood, like a bewitching gipsy.
"How do you mean?" asked Frank, innocently enough.
"Don't you see your old love and Mr. Goldthred?" was the reply. "Confess now—honour! You did care for her once!"
"A little, perhaps," he answered lightly, though his lip quivered, and she saw it.
"But you don't now?" she pursued, leaning towards him with a gesture of confiding tenderness impossible to resist.
"You know I don't," he answered, and pressed the arm that rested on his own, gently but firmly to his heart.
She broke into one of those rare smiles by which, on occasion, she knew how to rivet her work so securely.