He caught the word which was not intended for his ears. But for once Jones had been startled out of himself.
"Is it wrong for me to call Mr. Norton Jim?" she asked with a bit of banter.
"It is not considered quite the proper thing, Miss Florence, to call a young man by his first name unless you are engaged to marry him, or grew up with him from childhood."
"Well, supposing I were engaged to him?" haughtily.
"That would be a very grave affair. What have you to prove that he may not wish to marry you for your money?"
"Why, Jones, you know that I haven't a penny in the world I can call my own! There is nothing to prove, except your word, that I am Stanley Hargreave's daughter."
"No, there is nothing to prove that you are his daughter. But hasn't it ever occurred to you that there might be a purpose back of this? Might it not be of inestimable value that your father's enemies should be left in doubt? Might it not be a means of holding them on the leash? There is proof, ample proof, my child; and when the time comes these will be shown you. But meantime put all thought of marrying Mr. Norton out of your mind."
"That I refuse to do," quietly. "I am at least mistress of my heart; and no one shall dictate to me whom I shall or shall not marry. I love Mr. Norton and he loves me, knowing that I may not be an heiress after all. And some day I shall marry him."
Jones bowed. This seemed to appear final to him, and nothing more was to be said.
Norton did not return to his rooms till seven. He found the telephone call and also a note in a handwriting unfamiliar. He tore off the envelope and found! the contents to be from the Countess Perigoff.