Piers laughed.
"Can that surprise one? Should I wonder if I were told she had fifty?"
"Yes, but this was not of the ordinary kind. You know that Mr. Jacks is well acquainted with Trafford Romaine. And it was Trafford Romaine himself."
The news did not fail of its impression. Piers smiled vaguely, and on the smile came a look of troubled pride.
"Well, it is not astonishing, but it gives me a better opinion of the man. I shall always feel a sort of sympathy when I come across his name. Why did you think I ought to know?"
"For a reason I feel to be rather foolish, now I come to speak of it," replied Mrs. Hannaford. "But—I had a feeling that Irene is by nature rather ambitious; and if, after such an experience as that, she so soon accepts a man who has done nothing particular, whose position is not brilliant——"
"I understand. She must, you mean, be very strongly drawn to him. But then I needed no such proof of her feeling—if it is certain that she is going to marry him. Could I imagine her marrying a man for any reason but one? Surely you could not?"
"No—no——"
The denial had a certain lack of emphasis. Otway's eyes flashed.
"You doubt? You speak in that way of Irene Derwent?"