“Anything I can tell you—I shall be delighted!” the young man declared.
She gave him a pleading look that seemed to say: “Please be very simple—very simple indeed.” Then she glanced about her as if there had been other people in the room; she didn’t wish to appear closeted with him or to have come on purpose. There she was at any rate, and she proceeded. “When my son told me he should ask you to come down I was very glad. I mean of course we were delighted—” And she paused a moment. But she next went on: “I want to ask you about Mrs. Headway.”
“Ah, here it is!” cried Waterville within himself. But he could show no wincing. “Ah yes, I see!”
“Do you mind my asking you? I hope you don’t mind. I haven’t any one else to ask.”
“Your son knows her much better than I do.” He said this without intention of malice, simply to escape from the difficulties of the situation, but after he had spoken was almost frightened by his mocking sound.
“I don’t think he knows her. She knows him—which is very different. When I ask him about her he merely tells me she’s fascinating. She is fascinating,” said her ladyship with inimitable dryness.
“So I think, myself. I like her very much,” Waterville returned cheerfully.
“You’re in all the better position to speak of her then.”
“To speak well of her,” the young man smiled.
“Of course—if you can. I should be delighted to hear you do that. That’s what I wish—to hear some good of her.”