"But surely, she must have given some particulars of herself," cried Hugh, in amazement that a man like his friend Spencer, endowed with a fair share of common-sense, should take a wife upon trust, as it were. To be sure, Pomfret had done the same thing, but then poor old Jack, possessor of many excellent qualities, was singularly deficient in brain-power. He was one of those who never looked before they leaped.
Nina shrugged her shoulders. "All we know is that she was a Miss Stella Keane, the daughter of a man who gambled away his fortune at cards and on the race-course. As for relatives, she has for cousin a Mrs. L'Estrange, a woman of good birth, but of somewhat shady reputation, who no longer mixes with her own class. There is another cousin, a man whose name I forget. I gather more from what has been omitted than what is actually said, that he is not a very desirable person, and has not visited Mrs. Spencer since her marriage. That is all I have learned during these many months."
"Not much, certainly. And I suppose the lady dries up when you try to approach her on the subject."
"Oh yes, her manner then is very marked," was Nina's answer. "At the slightest question she seems to become frozen, to shut herself up within her shell. You know, Hugh, I was prepared to make the best of it all for Guy's sake, although, of course, I quite sympathise with my father's resentment. I have nothing to say against her manners or her appearance. If not a lady, she is most ladylike, and she never offends. But all the same, I can't take to her. To me there seems something about her secretive and underhand. She appears to adore Guy, but, as you have suggested, that may be very accomplished acting."
At this point, Miss Crichton, Lady Nina's friend, was announced. She was not in the inner counsels of the Southleigh family, so no further allusion was made to Guy's wife.
A few moments later the Spencers arrived. Guy shook his old friend Murchison warmly by the hand, they had met of late years only once or twice during Hugh's brief leave from the Front. When they had exchanged a few mutual inquiries, the young husband turned to his wife, looking very slender and elegant in a filmy cream confection.
"Stella, one of my oldest friends, Hugh Murchison. We were boys together. You must have heard me speak of him."
The young woman held out her hand with a charming smile that lighted up the rather sad face, and made her look what so many of her admirers said she was, quite beautiful.
"Yes, Major Murchison, I have heard of you from my husband, and how much you have suffered in this cruel war. You must come and see us, and renew your old friendship."
For a moment Hugh could not speak. The room seemed suddenly peopled with ghosts of the past, summoned by the soft tones of that charming voice, so low and sweetly modulated. Then, collecting himself with a great effort, he dropped her hand, and made some formal answer. And at that moment the butler announced that dinner was served.