"Slightly," said Jane.
"A fine fellow," I said unblushingly.
"A-h," said Jane.
"My favorite relative," I went on brazenly. "He's a thoroughly good sort—rather dull now to what he used to be, though. He had an unfortunate love affair two years ago and has never got over it."
"Indeed?" said Jane coldly, crumbling a bit of bread between her fingers. Her face was expressionless and her voice ditto; but I had heard her criticize nervous people who did things like that at table.
"I fear poor Elliott's life has been completely spoiled," I said, with a sigh. "It's a shame."
"Did he confide the affair to you?" asked Jane, a little scornfully.
"Well, after a fashion. He said enough for me to guess the rest. He never told me the lady's name. She was very beautiful, I understand, and very heartless. Oh, she used him very badly."
"Did he tell you that, too?" asked Jane.
"Not he. He won't listen to a word against her. But a chap can draw his own conclusions, you know."