"Beg your pardon, about that cruelty, miss," he said unhappily. "Couldn't I go down—just for once, Miss—as Mr. Buckley?"
"No; but I can assure you that I don't want this talked about more than must be either. Perhaps I ought to tell you that I shall probably marry again."
Buck's finger went to his forehead again, this time in a duty to his successor. Then his eyes grew grave. His wife had made a slight movement.
"If I might make so bold, miss—there's another thing——"
She knew what he meant.
"You've nothing to do with that," she said quickly.
Buck would have thought that he had, but if a lady said he hadn't, well, he hadn't, that was all.
"Yes, miss.... And asking your pardon again—about that cruelty?"
"Oh, that's over," said Mrs. Causton, closing her eyes. "Six months ago."
"I—I don't remember," said Buck; but once more, if a lady said it was so, so it was. Again the grave look came into his eyes, and again she understood.