Recovering, Helena bore down upon them with a little call of delight.
"Not really!... O my dears! I'm so glad!"
She gathered Venetia into her arms.
IX
Unremarked by any of these, Marbridge stepped out upon the terrace. He was light of foot like most men of his type; his voice, unctuous with the Southern drawl which he affected together with quaint Southern twists of speech, was the first warning they had of his approach.
"This is surely one powerful' fine night. I don't wonder you-all like it better out here than—" He checked suddenly in both words and action: the women had started apart. "Why!" he added slowly, as though perplexed—"I hope I don't intrude...."
His quick dark eyes shifted rapidly from Helena to Venetia, to Matthias, and again back to the women, during a momentary lull of embarrassment. Then Helena said quietly:
"Not in the least. But this makes you the first to learn the news, Mr. Marbridge. Venetia and my nephew are engaged to be married."
"Engaged—!" The man's chin slacked: his eyes widened; a cigarette fell unheeded from his fingers. He smiled a trace stupidly.