"Possibly she might; or she might do worse," was the sage response. "After all, Quorn is a charming fellow."
"Oh, yes," his friend assented in a tone so warped that it seemed to signify, "Oh, no."
"It's a fine old title," said the lady reflectively.
"Title's all right," he agreed equivocally.
"Undeniable," Lady Ormstork maintained. "But of course, my dear Mr. Gage, you understand that advantage would weigh nothing with me if Quorn were not genuinely fond of Ulrica."
"Just so," responded Peckover with a wink at a passing swallow.
"Naturally," she pursued, "you will see my position is a somewhat delicate one. It is on that account, my dear Mr. Gage, that I make no scruple in asking you, a clever man of the world—if I may call you so——"
"Oh, don't mention it," he replied glibly.
"I'm asking you not to let me be in the dark as to your friend's real feelings and intentions. For if I were sure that Quorn had no idea of proposing I should consider it my duty to take Ulrica away from here at once."
"He has not expressed any such intention to me," Peckover replied, brightening a little.