“I’m quite sure that everybody in Hove is convinced that I am to be Mrs Trewinnard;” and then, referring to her English maid, she added: “Davey has heard it half a dozen times already.”
I laughed merrily, saying:
“Well, that’s only to be expected, I suppose. But what about Drury—eh?”
“They don’t see very much of Dick. We only meet at night,” she laughed, poking the grass with her sunshade.
“And that you really must not do in future,” I said firmly.
“Then I can go about with him in the daytime—eh?” she asked, looking up imploringly into my face.
“My dear child,” I said, “though I do not approve of it, yet how can I debar you from any little flirtation, even though the Emperor would, I know, be extremely angry if it came to his ears?”
“But it won’t. I’m sure it won’t, Uncle Colin, through you. You are such a funny old dear.”
“Well,” I said reluctantly, “for my own part I would much prefer that you invited your gentleman friend to the house, where Miss West could at least play propriety. But only now and then—for recollect one fact always, that you and he can never marry, however fond you may be of each other. It is that one single fact which causes me pain.”
Her hard gaze was fixed upon the broad expanse of blue sea before her. I saw how grave she had suddenly become, and that in her great dark eyes stood unshed tears.