“My dear,” continued Mrs Roxbury, “I have news for you, but perhaps it is no news to you. Ah! he has found her.”
Mr Elias Green was at the moment, making his bow to Graeme.
“There was no truth in the rumour, about him and little Miss Grove. Mr Green has more sense. Your friend is fortunate, Lilias.”
Lilias looked at her aunt in astonishment, but nothing more could be said, for there were more arrivals, and her attention was claimed.
“Aunt Roxbury does not know what she is talking about,” said she, to her cousin, as he led her away. “The idea of Mr Green’s daring to lift his eyes to Graeme Elliott. She would not look at him.”
“Mr Green is a great man in his own circle, I can assure you,” said Mr Ruthven. “Miss Elliott will be thought fortunate by people generally.”
“Do you think so? You know very little about her, if you think that,” said Lilias, impatiently.
“I know Mr Green better than most people do, and I respect him—and he is very rich—”
“Oh! don’t talk folly,” cried Lilias. “I have no patience with people who think, because a man is rich—. But you don’t know Graeme, cousin Allan—I thought—”
They were very near Graeme by this time. She turned at the moment, and greeted them frankly enough, as far as any one could see. She noticed the cloud on Lilias’ face, and asked her if she was quite well; she expressed pleasure at the return of Mr Ruthven too, but she did not meet his eye, though he told her he had seen her brother Norman at a station by the way, and detained her to give her a message that he had sent. He had schooled himself well, if he was really as unmoved by the words of Mrs Roxbury and Lilias, as to his cousin he appeared to be. But he was not a man who let his thoughts write themselves on his face, and she might easily be deceived. It was not a pleasant moment, it was a very bitter moment indeed, to him, when with a smile to them, Graeme placed her hand on the willing arm of Mr Green, and walked away “like a queen,” he said to himself, but to his cousin he said—