Eustacie assented, wondering how long she would be able to hold him in conversation. She did not feel that she possessed quite Miss Thane’s talent for discursive chatter, and she was far too ingenuous to realize that her enchanting little face was enough to keep the Beau by her side until she herself should be pleased to declare the interview at an end. It did occur to her that he was looking at her with an expression of unusual warmth in his eyes, but beyond deciding that she did not like it, she paid very little heed to it. She sat down by the fire, her soft, dove-coloured skirts billowing about her, and remarked that if her dearest Sarah had a fault it was that she was a trifle too talkative.
“Just a trifle,” agreed the Beau. “Do you really propose to accompany her to town?”
“Oh yes, certainly!” she replied. “But I cannot remain with her for ever, and it is that which makes everything very awkward. I meant to become a governess, but Sarah does not advise it. What do you think I should do?”
“Well,” said the Beau slowly, “you could, of course, engage a lady of birth and propriety to live with you and be your chaperon. Sylvester had left you well provided for, you know.”
“But I do not want a chaperon!” said Eustacie.
“No? There is an alternative.”
“Tell me, then!”
“Marriage,” he said.
She shook her head. “I will not marry Tristram. He is not amusing, and, besides, I do not like him.”
“I am aware,” said the Beau, “but Tristram is not the only man in the world, my little cousin.”