"You hardly seem well, dear," she said, observing him anxiously.
"You surprise me," he returned. "I am not conscious of any aches or pains," he added, with an implication of gaiety.
She did not seem convinced. "This malarial air must have affected you," she insisted.
"I don't say I find it pleasant." He seized the poker, as if glad to make a diversion, and stirred the fire energetically. "I'm a little bit disgusted, too; the day wasn't as clear as I hoped—there was a good deal of mist about."
"Better luck to-morrow!" she said.
He struck hard at a knob of coal, making a dreadful clatter. "I hope so, indeed," he answered, thinking it curious that Alice should now be expecting him to go to Grosvenor Place as a matter of course. "At any rate," he added, as it struck him Alice might reasonably be hoping for some account of his morning's visit, "they were kind to me—just as of old. Lady Lakeden sent me refreshments, and afterwards came herself to see how things were progressing."
"I suppose Lady Lakeden is a sister of the earl," she conjectured.
"No, his daughter—a mere girl," he explained, with the flicker of a laugh. "It was a great surprise. It is only a few years back that I was asked to her wedding. After that, I got out of touch with them, and I did not know she had lost her husband very soon after the marriage. He met with an accident on the Alps."
Alice was blanched. "How terrible!" she whispered.
There was a silence. Wyndham held his hands to the flame he had been at such pains to create. He hoped he had satisfied her interest sufficiently; for, of course, the whole scene between himself and Lady Betty must be kept from her inviolate. Was it not for Alice's own sake and happiness?