"You will see Mr. Elgar, and make this clear to him?"
"Very clear indeed," was the grim reply. "As for any thing else, why, what can we do? If they insist upon it, I suppose they must see each other—of course, under reasonable restrictions. You cannot make yourself a duenna of melodrama, Mrs. Lessingham."
"Scarcely. But I think our stay at Naples may reasonably be shortened—unless, of course, Mr. Elgar leaves."
"You take it for granted, I see, that Miss Doran will be guided by our judgment," said Mallard, after musing on the last remark.
"I have no fear of that," replied Mrs. Lessingham with confidence, "if it is made to appear only a question of postponement. This will be a trifle compared with my task of yesterday morning. You can scarcely imagine how astonished she was at the first hint of opposition."
"I can imagine it very well," said the other, in his throat. "What else could be expected after—" He checked himself on the point of saying something that would have revealed his opinion of Mrs. Lessingham's "system"—his opinion accentuated by unreasoning bitterness. "From all we know of her," were the words he substituted.
"She is more like her father than I had supposed," said Mrs. Lessingham, meditatively.
Mallard stood up.
"You will let her know that I have been here?"
"Certainly."