Miss Challoner begged him to be seated. She had a shrewd notion that all was not entirely well between Miss Marling and her swain. Certain veiled remarks and flighty head-tossings on the part of Juliana had induced her to suppose that Mr. Comyn had somehow affronted his lady. She now perceived that Mr. Comyn wore the air of a man goaded beyond the limits of forbearance. She would have liked to give him some good advice on the proper way of treating Miss Marling, but feeling that their intimacy was not far enough advanced to permit of this, she merely replied: “Certainly, sir. Miss Marling is gone to a ball at the house of — I think — Madame de Saint-Vire.”
She instantly realized from his expression that her frankness was ill-timed. A crease appeared between his brows; there was a distinct grimness in his face, which Miss Challoner privately thought became him rather well. “Indeed, ma’am?” he said levelly. “It is as I suspected, then. I’m obliged to you.”
He seemed to be on the point of departure, but Miss Challoner ventured to stay him. “Your pardon, Mr. Comyn, but I think you are put out?”
He gave a short laugh. “Not at all, ma’am. I apprehend that I am merely unaccustomed to the manners obtaining in the Polite World.”
“Will you not take me a little way into your confidence, sir?” Mary said gently. “Juliana is my friend, and I believe I may say I do in part understand her. If I could be of assistance to you — but I do not wish to appear vulgarly intrusive.”
Mr. Comyn hesitated, but the kindness in Miss Challoner’s face induced him to come back into the room, and sit down on a chair beside her. “You are very good, ma’am. I believe it is not unknown to you that there exists between Miss Marling and myself a contract to wed, which, though unhappily a secret from the world, I at least have regarded as binding.”
“Yes, sir, I know, and I wish you very happy,” said Mary.
“Thank you, ma’am. Before I set foot in this town — a circumstance I am fast coming to regret — I should have received your extremely obliging good wishes with a gratitude unalloyed by misgiving. Now — ” He stopped, and Miss Challoner watched the meticulous gentleman change into an angry and scowling young man. “I can only suppose, ma’am, that Miss Marling has, upon reflection, perceived the force of her parent’s arguments, and decided to bestow her hand elsewhere.”
“No, sir, that I am sure she has not,” Mary said.
He looked at her in a hurt way that touched her. “When I tell you, ma’am, that from the moment of my arrival in Paris Miss Marling has persistently encouraged the advances of a certain French gentleman not unconnected with her family, and has upon every occasion preferred his company to mine, you will hardly assure me that her affections are unchanged.”