“We—we have not made up our minds!” said Kitty.
“Yes, we have,” interpolated Freddy. “Going to Paris.” He thought for a moment, and added: “Kit wishes to meet her French relations.”
“My dear Kitty, why did you not tell me so?” said Mr Westruther, quite shocked. “Had I had the least suspicion of this very natural desire—! But it is not too late, I believe, to rectify my omissions! I have reason to think th&t one of your French relations is even now in London. Let me assure you that I shall lose no time in bringing him to visit you! You will like him excessively—a man of the first rank and character, I am persuaded! Dearest Meg, I must tear myself away from you—positively I must! Past ten o’clock, and I pledged to present myself at the Rockcliffes’ not an instant later than half-past nine! I must obviously make haste, or I shall be guilty of unpunctuality. I kiss your hands, my charmer, and Kitty’s cheek. Oh, you have no occasion to blush, absurd child! Recollect that I was your first love—-in your nursery-days, of course, so Freddy must not take umbrage!”
Her colour was indeed heightened, but she said, stammering a little: “Yes, indeed you w-were, but Freddy won’t take umbrage at that, for you are precisely a schooleiri’s notion of what a romantic hero should be, Jack!”
The laughter was back in his eyes. “A doubler!” he said.
Her own gaze fell; she said hurriedly: “But tell me! Who is this relation of mine, pray?”
“The Chevalier d’Evron. Rely upon me to make him known to you!”
A friendly nod to Freddy, and he was gone. Kitty said doubtfully. “Who can it be? I never heard of such a person, you know!”
“If you ask me,” said Freddy, in a mood of dark scepticism, “it’s a hum! Playing off his tricks, that’s what I thought!”
“Why, whatever can you mean?” cried Meg. “He said the Chevalier was a man of the first rank and character!”