“Oh, I shall not, of course! Do not look so shocked!”
“Not that—certainly not that, but—I have no right to ask you—you have met someone? There is some man with whom you could contemplate—?”
“No one, upon my honour!” she said, laughing. Her eyes met his for an instant, and then fell. She coloured, became aware of her hand under his and gently drew it away. “Where can Mrs. Scattergood be gone to, I wonder?”
He rose. “I must go. It is growing late.” He paused, looking earnestly down at her. “You have Peregrine to turn to, I know. Let me say just this, that you have also a cousin who would do all in his power to serve you.”
“Thank you,” she said, almost inaudibly. She got up. “It—it is late. It was good of you to call, to bring me the book.”
He took her hand, held out to him in farewell, and kissed it. “Dear Judith!” he said.
Mrs. Scattergood, coming back into the room at that moment, looked very sharply at him, and made not the smallest attempt to persuade him into staying any longer. He took his leave of both ladies, and bowed himself out.
“You are getting to be excessively intimate with that young gentleman, my love,” observed Mrs. Scattergood.
“He is my cousin, ma’am,” replied Judith tranquilly.
“H’m, yes! I daresay he might be. I have very little notion of cousins, I can tell you. Not that I have anything against Mr. Taverner, my dear. He seems an agreeable creature. But that is how it is always! The less eligible a man is the more delightful he is bound to be! You may depend upon it.”