Oswald opened his eyes. "Of whom are you speaking, Miss Davenal?"
"Of you. I was not speaking of any one else."
"But the lady? You alluded to a lady."
"Oh, the lady. You don't want me to tell you her name. You know it well enough. That young Scotch lady whose brother was ill."
He breathed with a feeling of relief. A fear had come over him that his dearest feelings had been exposed to Miss Davenal--perhaps to others. Sara's colour heightened, and she raised her eyes momentarily. They met Oswald's: and she was vexed with herself.
"I shall most likely live a bachelor all my days, Miss Davenal. I believe I shall."
"More unwise of you, Mr. Oswald Cray! Bachelors are to be pitied. They never get a cup of decent tea or a button on their shirts."
"I am independent of buttons; I have set up studs. See," he continued, showing his wrists. "And tea I don't particularly care for."
Miss Bettina thought he was serious. "You'd be happier as a married man, with somebody to take care of your comforts. It is so different with women; they are happiest single--at least, such is my belief--and their comforts are in their own hands."
"The difficulty is to find somebody suitable, Miss Bettina. Especially to us busy men, who have no time to look out."