"Perhaps she is in love," Joyce let herself suggest wickedly.
"I've thought of that, but 'pon my word! I can't think of a man."
"Why not Mr. Verinder?"
His eyeglass ogled her to make sure he was not being made game of, but the lovely face was very innocent.
"Can't be," he demurred with conventional denial.
"Captain Kilmeny, then."
"Hardly. I don't think he's quite her style of man."
"Perhaps with his cousin, the highwayman."
"Good heavens, no!"
She took on a look of horrified suspicion. "You don't think—surely it couldn't be—Oh, I do hope it isn't Lord Farquhar."