She had recognized them ere George finished speaking. Mr. and Mrs. Verrall! It took about ten minutes to ask and answer questions. “How strange that we should not have met before!” Mrs. Verrall cried. “We have been here a fortnight. But perhaps you have only just come?”
“Only last night,” said George.
“My wife turned ill for a foreign tour, so I indulged her,” explained Mr. Verrall. “We have been away a month now.”
“And a fortnight of it at Homburg!” exclaimed George in surprise. “What attraction can you find here? Maria and I were just saying that we would leave it to-night.”
“It’s as good as any other of these German places, for all I see,” carelessly remarked Mr. Verrall. “How well you are looking!” he added to George.
“I cannot pay you the same compliment,” Mrs. Verrall said to Maria. “What have you done with your roses?”
Maria’s “roses” came vividly into her cheeks at the question. “I am not in strong health just now,” was all she answered.
George smiled. “There’s nothing seriously the matter, Mrs. Verrall,” said he. “Maria will find her roses again after a while. Charlotte has—I was going to say, changed her name,” broke off George; “but in her case that would be a wrong figure of speech. She is married, we hear.”
“Long ago,” said Mrs. Verrall. “Charlotte’s quite an old married woman by this time. It took place—let me see!—last November. They live in London.”
“Mr. Pain is her cousin, is he not?”