In melancholy mood Idris returned to Wave Crest. Beatrice, quick to interpret his looks, guessed what had happened: and though the result was such as she herself desired, yet the sight of his dejection touched her to the quick and filled her with a mixed feeling of pity and anger. Who, forsooth, was Mademoiselle Rivière that she should treat Idris' love as of no account?
Aware that Lorelie was not favourably regarded by Beatrice, Idris had prudently refrained from making the latter a confidante of his love-affair, but now, sitting down beside her, he proceeded to tell her all.
But when Beatrice heard the amazing news that Lorelie Rivière was in reality Viscountess Walden, and therefore her cousin by marriage, a look not merely of wonder but of dismay stole over her face.
"Have you proof of this?" she asked breathlessly.
"Proof of what?" exclaimed Godfrey, entering the room at this juncture.
"That Mademoiselle Rivière is Ivar's wife," she replied.
"Well, I did not ask her to produce her marriage certificate," said Idris, somewhat vexed that Lorelie's word should be doubted. "For the truth of her words I had better refer you to your cousin, Lord Walden himself. We see now the cause of his surliness the other night. Any fellow with so lovely a wife might be jealous on learning that she had spent five hours in a lonely cave tête-à-tête with a stranger."
"He might, nevertheless, have had the grace to give you a few words of thanks for saving her life," remarked Godfrey. "I suppose it is from fear of his father that he keeps the marriage a secret?"
"Presumably."
"Hum! rather hazardous to bring her so near to Ravenhall," said Godfrey.