"Oh, well," he urged feebly; "I don't want to make a fool of myself."
"Oh, it is not necessary," the disappointed maiden returned with scorn. "You may look, Dagmar."
"I didn't see anything," remarked that lady, with a malicious twinkle in her sharp eyes.
"No," said Sharnbrook, manifestly relieved; "I don't see how you could. So the new Lord Quorn is coming down to the Towers," he added, eager to change the subject.
"Yes," replied Dagmar glibly, wickedly rejoicing at Ethel's discomfiture. "We are expecting him now. Of course we haven't an idea what he is like. Frightfully colonial, no doubt."
"We've heard nothing of Lady Quorn," remarked Ethel, determined not to be behindhand in chatter, and so show her indifference to the love passage that did not come off.
Sharnbrook gave a smile of superior knowledge.
"There is no Lady Quorn," he said.
The effect of his announcement was startling. "No Lady Quorn?" the eager sisters cried in chorus, their expressions indicating design tempered with incredulity.
"Quorn's a bachelor," Sharnbrook maintained, beginning to see light behind the dark cloud which for the past fortnight had hung over him.