Rowland looked at her mistrustfully, without answering. He was indisposed, instinctively, to tell her that Roderick was unhappy; it was possible she might offer to help him back to happiness. She immediately perceived his hesitation.
“I see no reason why we should not be frank,” she said. “I should think we were excellently placed for that sort of thing. You remember that formerly I cared very little what I said, don’t you? Well, I care absolutely not at all now. I say what I please, I do what I please! How did Mr. Hudson receive the news of my marriage?”
“Very badly,” said Rowland.
“With rage and reproaches?” And as Rowland hesitated again—“With silent contempt?”
“I can tell you but little. He spoke to me on the subject, but I stopped him. I told him it was none of his business, or of mine.”
“That was an excellent answer!” said Christina, softly. “Yet it was a little your business, after those sublime protestations I treated you to. I was really very fine that morning, eh?”
“You do yourself injustice,” said Rowland. “I should be at liberty now to believe you were insincere.”
“What does it matter now whether I was insincere or not? I can’t conceive of anything mattering less. I was very fine—is n’t it true?”
“You know what I think of you,” said Rowland. And for fear of being forced to betray his suspicion of the cause of her change, he took refuge in a commonplace. “Your mother, I hope, is well.”
“My mother is in the enjoyment of superb health, and may be seen every evening at the Casino, at the Baths of Lucca, confiding to every new-comer that she has married her daughter to a pearl of a prince.”