"Mad about her!" sneers Lady Jean. "How like a man! You could stop at nothing, of course, but the absolute possession of your fancied toy. And your craze has lasted two years! Admirable fidelity!"
"It would never have been a craze at all," whispers Sir Francis low in her ear, "if you——"
"Hush!" she says, softly; "I have forbidden you to speak of that. It would have been different if we had met—earlier. As it is——"
She ends the sentence with a sigh. It may mean anything, and is poetic; it sounds better than to say, "As you are quite as rich as Joel Salomans, and are of better birth and family, I would have taken you instead." Sir Francis hears only the sigh, and meets a glance from the dark, brilliant eyes.
"As it is you are cruel," he whispers, passionately.
"Cruel to be kind," she says, with a little mocking laugh. "Keep to your pearl of purity, mon cher. If you are not a jealous husband, you might surely be a faithful one."
"Have I not told you she bores me?" says Sir Francis, petulantly. "And I know she detests me, and always did. I did not mind that—once. Now—well, one can't be always at a one-sided adoration."
"Fancy 'adoring' any one! How odd!" laughs Lady Jean. "I thought it was only in novels men did that."
"Have you never loved then?"
Lady Jean raised her arched eyebrows, and looks at him with admirable amusement. "I?—most decidedly not. Should I be without wrinkles at my age, if I had? Non, merci. I never believed in such folly, and never perpetrated it."