She got up abruptly and left the room. The moment she had done so, the Major sprang from his easy-chair, took hold of his stick, and began to pace about more energetically than ever.
“If that woman puts a spoke in Mike’s wheel, I shall hate her as long as I live!” he thought. “She is just the spiteful sort to do it. I shall have to be very wary when I talk to her.”
Meanwhile, Mrs Fortescue had really left the room to recover her self-control. But she was a woman, and could quickly achieve her object. She came back looking as calm as though the Major had not brought her any special information.
“You will, Major Reid, forgive me,” she said, “for having left you so suddenly, but your news startled me.”
“Naturally, quite naturally,” he answered.
He was clasping his stick between his two hands and leaning on it. His stick gave him a lot of support.
“Quite naturally,” he repeated.
“As my dear Florence’s mother—we will assume for the time being that I hold that position—you are quite right to tell me, Major Reid. But when—when did Michael give my dear girl to understand that he cared for her!”
“As far as I can make out, he has always cared for her,” said the Major; “but I don’t think he showed her any serious attention until Christmas Day. You must have noticed that they were a good deal together then.”
“Oh well—I naturally observed that your son was pleased to be with the prettiest girl in the room.”