"There isn't any Mrs. Scoville," she said quietly. She was watching his face.
He stared. Then he started to his feet in alarm, with a bewildered look around the room.
"Can it be that I am in the wrong house?"
"There used to be a Mrs. Scoville here."
"Used to be?"
"But she's Mrs. De Foe now."
She was smiling into his eyes now, so merrily, so frankly, that somehow he overcame the immediate impulse to express his consternation by leaping a foot or two into the air. Instead of doing anything so utterly common, he merely gulped and stared the harder.
"She's—she's gone and got married to Chauncey De Foe?" he murmured, his eyes very wide.
"This very night, Mr. Van Pycke," said she, leaning back to see how he would take it. His face grew suddenly radiant.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "you don't know how happy you have made me!"