"Good! Then I can ask ten more questions about Boston. Mrs. Estcoit, please tell me——"
But she paused before her sentence was finished. For the handle of the door had turned; and, looking up quickly, she saw the tall figure of Deerehurst.
Had any member of the party looked at her in that moment, he or she would have seen a wave of colour sweep across her face, then die out, leaving her almost white. But beyond this, she betrayed no emotion; and, a moment later, when Deerehurst came towards her across the room with his habitual slow, silent step, she raised her head, smiling a conventional welcome, and held out her hand.
He took it silently, and with a slightly ostentatious impressiveness.
"A thousand apologies if I intrude on a social gathering," he murmured. "But on returning home, I chanced upon the book we were discussing to-day, and remembering how interested you were——" With a very quiet movement he laid a small and costly little book of verses on the arm of Clodagh's chair, and turned with his usual dignity to where Nance was standing.
"How d'you do, Miss Asshlin! Is it too late to beg for a cup of tea?"
Nance held out her hand.
"I'm afraid 'twill be rather cold," she said a little ungraciously. "But if you don't mind that, will you please ring the bell? We shall want another cup."
Estcoit glanced at her, a humorous look hovering about his thin lips; and at the same instant Gore was conscious of a sudden wave of brotherly affection.
But Deerehurst showed no embarrassment. He turned to the fireplace, pressed the bell, then looked round again upon the little group.