"If you marry in accordance with your sister's wish, I should think you are right," returned Malcolm coolly. "My dear fellow, would it not have been as well to find this out before you pledged yourself to the lady?"
"There was no necessity for that," replied Cedric; "Jacobi seemed quite satisfied with my prospects. He is not a bit grasping. He told me that he wished his sister to marry a gentleman; that he had been to the Wood House and seen my sisters, and he was quite willing to give his sanction to the engagement; and as Leah and I understood each other perfectly, I had no difficulty with her. Why don't you congratulate me, Herrick," exclaimed the lad excitedly, "instead of badgering and cross-examining me like an Old Bailey witness? I am the happiest fellow in existence! Leah's a darling—there is not such a woman in the world!"
"Is there not?" returned Malcolm quietly. His face looked a little haggard as he spoke, and there was a wistful, pining look in his eyes. Oh, why was the boy so like Elizabeth? There was no real similarity—it was only a trick of expression, a turn of the head, a sudden impulsive movement that recalled her. "May I ask one more question, old fellow? Is it by your own or Mr. Jacobi's wish that the engagement is kept a secret?" But Cedric refused to answer this. He said with a good deal of dignity that there were limits to everything. He had a great respect for Herrick, and always looked upon him as his best friend, but he must excuse him answering this.
"Well—well, we will talk of that again," returned Malcolm; but in his own mind he was certain that Saul Jacobi had his own reasons for preventing the news of Cedric's engagement from reaching his sisters' ears. "There is another question I must ask you. Why do you call your fiancee Miss Jacobi?"
Cedric stared at him.
"I suppose because it is her name," he replied rather impatiently. "What a fellow you are, Herrick! I think your wits must be wool-gathering."
"Oh dear, nothing of the kind; I am not mad, most noble Felix, but in my sane, sober senses. I am quite aware the lady you wish to marry was at one time Leah Jacobi, but her married name is the Countess Antonio Ferrari."
"What!" exclaimed Cedric, springing to his feet; but he added something rather stronger. "Confound you, Herrick, what do you mean by talking such infernal rot?"
"Sit down," returned Malcolm calmly; "I can't talk while you are walking to and fro like the old gentleman. My dear boy, I am sorry to give you this shock, but do you actually mean to tell me that you do not know, that Leah Jacobi is a widow—that neither she nor her brother have informed you of her previous marriage?"
"No," broke from Cedric's lips; he seemed quite stunned. Then he exclaimed indignantly, "But it is a lie—a cursed lie!"