"Well, Susan," said Grace, when the door had closed upon him. "Don't you think you have done a vastly clever thing?"
"Anyhow, I would rather have done it than left it undone!" her friend answered savagely, furious at Haldane's conduct.
"What on earth possessed you to bring that man and me together?"
"I wanted you to meet. I know you like him, and I know he worships you."
"Worships! And he would scarcely hand me a cup of tea—did it as if he were carrying food to a leper! Worship, forsooth! When it's evident he believes the worst people say of me."
"Perhaps he takes the scandal more to heart than another man would, because you have been his bright particular star."
"Nonsense! I know he used to like coming to my house—he used to jump at my invitations. I thought it was because I always had pretty people about me, or that it was on account of my chef. But as for anything more——"
"Well, there was something more. He was deeply in love with you."
"Did he tell you so?"
"He is not that kind of man. But he and I have been pals ever since I came to London. I taught a sister of his when his people lived in Onslow Square—a sister he adored. She married a soldier, and died in India a year after her marriage, and Arthur likes to talk to me about her. She was very fond of me, poor girl. And then, last year, I found that he liked to talk about you—and I know the inside of people's minds well enough to know most of the things they don't tell me."