“I know,” said the lady, sadly.
“It seems to me you found out every thing, though how the deuce you contrived it is more than I can tell,” said Leon.
“Our faculties are very much sharpened where our interests are concerned,” said the lady, sententiously.
“Now, see here,” said Leon. “It is true that this lady is my cousin, and that she is an heiress, and that I am infernally hard up, and that my father sent me here, and that I have been talking with the solicitors; but I swear to you the subject of marriage has not once been mentioned.”
“But only thought of,” suggested the other.
“Well, I don't know any thing about people's thoughts,” said Leon. “If you go into that style of thing, I give up. By-the-way, you know so much, that I suppose you know the lady's name.”
“Oh yes: Miss Dalton—Edith Dalton.”
“The devil!” exclaimed Leon. “Well, I confess I'm mystified. How you could have found out all this is utterly beyond me.”
“So you have no idea of matrimony, mon cher?” said the lady, attempting to use a sprightly tone, but looking at him with a glance so earnest that it showed what importance she attached to his reply.
Leon was silent for a moment, and looked at the ground. At last he burst forth impatiently: