"Oh, how very nice that is. Then you must know my cousin, Captain Cherriton?"
"Yes," said Parkson; "I've met him a number of times here." His tone conveyed to her swift intelligence the fact that Captain Cherriton was not high in his favour. She looked at him seriously.
"I am afraid he was not the best of company for you."
At that moment Cecily, who had been conveniently absent from the room, entered with coffee upon the tray.
"You will please bring another cup, Cecily. I am sure Captain Parkson——"
"Lieutenant Parkson," corrected the young man.
"Lieutenant Parkson will join me."
Five minutes later Lieutenant Parkson was comfortably seated in a chair on the opposite side of the hearth. He was consuming one of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's buff-coloured cigarettes, and was very much at home drinking some of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's after-dinner coffee. After the first few minutes he gathered together his natural self-possession. He was generally at home where women were concerned, and he was intensely susceptible to feminine beauty. At that particular moment he was flattering himself that he was making a good impression upon this rich and beautiful young widow. It occurred to him that she was, in the circumstances, unduly cheerful, but he attributed this to his own good company. The fact that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had cunningly put him in this frame of mind was, of course, unknown to him. His own social position was quite a modest one, and this tête-à-tête with a woman of Mrs. Monmouth's importance and aristocratic connections flattered his vanity.
"Do you know, Mr. Parkson, I don't look upon you as a stranger in the least. You are a friend of my reckless cousin, and, therefore, we are in a sense mutually acquainted."
"It is very nice of you to say so," acknowledged Parkson.