“You are not up to the mark, Helen; you look tired and worried! That youngster of mine has not been misbehaving herself, I hope? What’s the trouble?”
“Oh, Austin, the deluge! The most awful complication. I feel inclined to whip her! Would you believe it, that wooden Arthur Newcome called upon me this very afternoon, not two hours ago, to ask my consent to his engagement to Lettice!”
“Arthur Newcome? Oh, I know—the solemn person in the frock coat! What preposterous nonsense! Lettice is a baby! We must not let the young people at home hear of this, or they will tease the poor girl to death. Young Newcome is a favourite butt, and they often mimic him for my benefit. Well, I hope you let the poor fellow down gently, and saved me a disagreeable task.”
“But—but, my dear Austin, you don’t understand. He cannot be dismissed in that easy fashion, for he says—it is inconceivable—I don’t know what to make of it—but he tells me that he has spoken to Lettice herself, and that she has accepted him!”
“What?” Mr Bertrand put down his cup and turned to confront Miss Carr with a face from which every trace of laughter had disappeared. “Accepted him? Lettice? This is serious indeed. Had you ever suspected—or noticed any sign of an attachment growing up between them?”
Miss Carr wrung her hands in distress.
“My dear Austin, how can you ask such a question? As if I would not have consulted with you at once if that had been the case. You know what Arthur Newcome is—the acme of all that is sober and stolid. I have never seen a sign of emotion of any kind on his face until this afternoon. He has seen a good deal of Lettice, for she and Madge are great friends, but I never thought of anything more—never for one moment! And as for Lettice herself, I am confident that the child never thought of him in that light, and that she is as heart-whole as I am myself.”
“Then why—why—?”
“Oh, don’t ask me! I am too miserable and disappointed to speak. I thought I had guarded against this sort of thing; but you know what Lettice is. He is very much in love, and no doubt she was pleased and flattered.”
Mr Bertrand thrust his hands into his pockets and paced up and down the room. His face looked drawn and anxious, but after five minutes had passed he drew a long breath and made a determined effort at cheerfulness.