Raymond appeared at his clubs and elsewhere with a face so impenetrably cheerful and complacent that his bitterest friend dared not venture on a condolence.
CHAPTER XIX.
"Tu mihi, tu certè (memini), Græcine, negabas,
Uno posse aliquem tempore amare duas."
When I had heard all this, I questioned Guy about his own affairs. He was not very communicative, though he seemed perfectly happy and hopeful as to the future. He said that his marriage was not to take place till the autumn, when Miss Brandon's brother (they were orphans) was expected to return from India. I could not help asking what Flora Bellasys thought of it.
Livingstone bit his lip and frowned slightly as he answered, "Well, there was a scene—rather a tempestuous one, to speak the truth, but we are perfectly good friends now. I wonder if she ever really expected me to marry her? She is the most amusing person alive to flirt with, but as for serious measures—" He shrugged his shoulders expressively. "Perhaps she has something to complain of; but if she has any conscience at all, she ought to recognize the lex talionis."
I was not convinced or satisfied, but it was useless to pursue the subject then.
"Will you ride to-day?" Guy asked. "There are always horses for you here. I should like to introduce you to Constance. We shall be in the Park about five."
I accepted willingly, and left him soon afterward.