This conversation with Serge relieved Francis enormously. He was like a man who, after long hesitation at a cross-road had followed one way for a mile or two, and then needed reassuring. He had already written half his letter to Annie Lipsett. He thoroughly enjoyed completing it.
Serge left him at it and found his mother waiting for him by the dining-room door. She said she wanted to speak to him, drew him into the room, and began to cross-examine him as to what his business might have been with Francis. He told her it was nothing of any importance, and then with a great deal of hesitation she came to her business.
“Don’t you think Jessie is just the very wife for Frederic, Serge?”
“The usual remark that she is far too good for him seems to be peculiarly appropriate.”
“Serge, does Frederic ever talk to you about himself?”
“Only in his more light-hearted moments.”
There was a moment’s hesitation on Mrs. Folyat’s part. Then:
“Serge, there is an odious woman pursuing Frederic. She is threatening him. Has he told you?”
“No. But I know.”
“Oh! Serge, please, please, can’t you save him from her clutches? I have been so wretched about it. Don’t let him marry her!”