“This man is in love with her, I suppose?” asked Marcus gloomily.
“If she has read him his ‘Ode to Japonica,’ I should say not.”
“He was in love with her, then?” persisted the enquiring uncle.
“Of course.”
“Why of course?”
“Isn’t every man in love with her?”
“And she—is she in love with any man?”
“Ah, that is the question,” said Elsie. The relations between them, which had become surprisingly easier, were again strained. She was the aunt on the one side—he the uncle on the other. Rebecca announced luncheon.
“I suppose we must eat,” said Marcus.
Elsie didn’t suppose anything about it; as a matter of fact there was no necessity, but she led the way to the dining-room, and there at the table sat Diana.