“I had a reason.” Vidal answered briefly.
“It does not matter in the least,” said her grace. “But it was very stupid of me not to see that of course the friend of Juliana must be this Mary Challoner. It was stupid of you too, Rupert. More stupid.”
“Stupid of me? Lord, how the devil should I guess Vidal would take his — ” He encountered a sudden fiery glance from his nephew, and stopped short. “Oh, very well!” he said. “I’m mum.”
“So you went to Tante Elisabeth?” cried Juliana. “I see!”
Mr. Comyn, who had waited in vain for the interruptions to cease, saw that he must be firm if he wished to make himself heard in this vociferous family. He cleared his throat, and continued loudly: “As I was saying, my lord, when I first had the honour of making Miss Challoner’s better acquaintance I was under the impression that not only was your lordship’s suit disagreeable to her, but that you yourself were constrained to wed the lady out of consideration — which I confess surprised me — for her reputation, and were not prompted by any of the tenderer feelings. Being convinced of this, I had little compunction, upon Miss Marling’s sundering our secret betrothal, in offering for Miss Challoner’s hand; an arrangement which I believed would be preferable to her than a marriage with your lordship.”
My Lord Rupert, who had been listening in rapt admiration to this speech, said in what he imagined to be a whisper:
“Wonderful, ain’t it, Léonie? Never heard aught to equal it. The boy always talks like that, y’know.”
Juliana said throbbingly: “Indeed, Frederick? And the marriage was, I need hardly ask, more to your taste than our contract?”
“Madam,” replied Mr. Comyn, looking steadily across at her, “when you informed me that you had no desire to wed one so far removed from your world as myself, it mattered very little to me whom I married. I had for Miss Challoner a profound respect; and on this I believed it would be possible to lay the foundations of a tolerably happy marriage. Miss Challoner was so obliging as to accept of my offer, and we set forth immediately for this town with what speed we could muster.”
“Hold a minute!” besought Rupert, suddenly alert. “Why Dijon? Tell me that!”