‘Not for long. Now and then. He took me down to supper—the first time.’
‘I’m afraid somebody will be a little jealous. I shall get into trouble. I didn’t foresee this.’
‘Somebody must treat me in a reasonable way,’ Fanny answered, with a dry laugh.
‘I’m quite sure he will,’ said Mrs. Damerel suavely. ‘But I feel myself a little responsible, you know. Let me put you on your guard against Mr. Mankelow. I’m afraid he’s rather a dangerous man. I have heard rather alarming stories about him. You see he’s very rich, and very rich men, if they’re rather handsome as well, say and do things—you understand?’
‘Is he really very rich?’
‘Well, several thousands a year, and a prospect of more when relatives die. I don’t mean to say that he is a bad man. He belongs to a very good family, and I believe him perfectly honourable. He would never do any one any harm—or, if he happened to, without meaning it, I’m quite sure he’d repair it in the honourable way.’
‘You said he was dangerous—’
‘To a young lady who is already engaged. Confess that you think him rather good-looking.’
Having inflamed the girl’s imagination, Mrs. Damerel presently dropped the subject, and fell again into weary silence.
At noon of the next day she received a call from Horace, who found her over tea and toast in her private sitting-room. The young man looked bilious; he coughed, too, and said that he must have caught fresh cold last night.