"Do you think," drawled Malcourt, intercepting a furtive glance between his sister and brother-in-law, to that gentleman's slight confusion, "do you think it might prove interesting to you and Herby? Americans are so happy to have your countrymen to entertain—particularly when their credentials are as unquestionable as Herby's and yours."
For a full minute, in strained silence, the concentrated gaze of the Tressilvains was focused upon the guileless countenance of Malcourt; and discovered nothing except a fatuous cordiality.
Lady Tressilvain drew a deep, noiseless breath and glanced at her husband.
"I don't understand, Louis, exactly what settlement—what sort of arrangement you made when you married this—very interesting young girl—"
"Oh, I didn't have anything to endow her with," said Malcourt, so amiably stupid that his sister bit her lip.
Tressilvain essayed a jest.
"Rather good, that!" he said with his short, barking laugh; "but I da'say the glove was on the other hand, eh, Louis?"
"What?"
"Why the—ah—the lady did the endowing and all that, don't you see?"
"See what?" asked Malcourt so pleasantly that his sister shot a look at her husband which checked him.