He pulled his fair mustaches and smiled.
"Well?" said the young man, with a kind of reluctant interrogation.
"She played with me, Jacob. But really she overdid it. For such a clever woman, I assure you, she overdid it!"
"I don't see why she shouldn't keep her friendships to herself," said Delafield, with sudden heat.
"Oh, so you admit it is a friendship?"
Delafield did not reply. He had laid down his cigar, and with his hands on his knees was looking steadily into the fire. His attitude, however, was not one of reverie, but rather of a strained listening.
"What is the meaning, Jacob, of a young woman taking so keen an interest in the fortunes of a dashing soldier--for, between you and me, I hear she is moving heaven and earth to get him this post--and then concealing it?"
"Why should she want her kindnesses talked of?" said the young man, impetuously. "She was perfectly right, I think, to fence with your questions, Sir Wilfrid. It's one of the secrets of her influence that she can render a service--and keep it dark."
Sir Wilfrid shook his head.
"She overdid it," he repeated. "However, what do you think of the man yourself, Jacob?"