She shook her head uncertainly.
"No--no 'buts,'" cried Sir Wilfrid, cheerfully. "Suppose, as a first step," he smiled at his companion, "you tell Lady Henry about the bazaar?"
"By all means. She won't let me go. But Evelyn will find some one else."
"Oh, we'll see about that," said the old man, almost crossly. "If you'll allow me I'll try my hand."
Julie Le Breton did not reply, but her face glimmered upon him with a wistful friendliness that did not escape him, even in the darkness. In this yielding mood her voice and movements had so much subdued sweetness, so much distinction, that he felt himself more than melting towards her.
Then, of a sudden, a thought--a couple of thoughts--sped across him. He drew himself rather sharply together.
"Mr. Delafield, I gather, has been a good deal concerned in the whole matter?"
Mademoiselle Le Breton laughed and hesitated.
"He has been very kind. He heard Lady Henry's language once when she was excited. It seemed to shock him. He has tried once or twice to smooth her down. Oh, he has been most kind!"
"Has he any influence with her?"