“I beg pardon. Is it to be kept a secret?”
“A secret!”
“You must forgive me. I had thought that only my consent was wanting before the engagement was to be made public.”
She turned quite pale. “Good God! You have seen him, then!”
“Certainly. Did you not send him to me?”
“Yes—no! Do not trifle with me! This is dreadful!”
“Dreadful?” said his lordship, maddeningly calm. “You could hardly make a more brilliant match, surely! You will have all the comfort and consequence of a most superior establishment, a position of the first consideration, and a husband who must be past the age of youthful folly. You are to be congratulated; I could not have wished to see you more creditably provided for. In addition you will be assured of suitable female companionship in the person of your eldest daughter-in-law, Miss Fitzclarence, whom I believe to be near your own age.”
“You are laughing at me!” Judith said uncertainly. “I am sure you are laughing at me! Do pray tell me you did not give your consent!”
He smiled, but would not answer. They were again separated, and when they met once more he began to talk in his languid way of something quite different. She answered very much at random, trying to read his face, and when the dance came to an end, suffered him to lead her into the tea-room, away from her own party.
He procured a glass of lemonade for her, and took up a position beside her chair. “Well, my ward,” he said, “did you, or did you not, send Clarence to me?”