Mr Morion’s eyes strayed half carelessly again in the direction of the little group where stood the newcomers.
“That is surely rather unreasonable,” he said. “I have not even heard the tone of her voice,” and he crossed the room as he spoke.
“You are contradiction personified,” was Madeleine’s mental ejaculation. “All men are contradictory, but you are the quintessence of it! I wish I hadn’t asked him what he thought of her!”
By this time Ryder Morion was gravely shaking hands with his kinsfolk—a word from Mrs Littlewood having already explained the situation to some extent.
“Yes,” he went on to Lady Emma, cleverly including her husband in what he said. “I arrived more than unexpectedly, for my letter, which should have preceded me, has not yet appeared. I am specially fortunate in finding you here this evening.”
Mr Morion the elder eyed him somewhat grimly; Lady Emma replying more graciously, though with a touch of nervousness as she caught her husband’s expression.
“You have not been here for a good many years, I suppose?” she said.
“No,” he replied candidly, “I am beginning to think it has been wrong of me, and I cannot really give any reason for it, except multifarious occupations elsewhere. And—I don’t think I have realised,” he went on, turning to Horace’s bear, “that it would have been better to give things up here more personal attention. I must not begin about private matters just now, but I am hoping,” with some slight hesitation, “I should be grateful if while I am here you would allow me to consult you a little.”
No one but Lady Emma detected the slight softening in her husband’s face at this speech.
“Are you making some stay?” was his rather abrupt reply.