She leaned over towards her companion, and
she did not again, for some few minutes, face the house.
"She is the loveliest woman I ever saw in my life," Juliet said with a
little sigh. "Is she a great friend of Sir Wingrave Seton, Mr.
Aynesworth?"
"He has no friends," Aynesworth answered. "I believe that they are
very well acquainted."
"Poor Sir Wingrave!" Juliet murmured softly.
Aynesworth looked at her in some surprise.
"It is odd that you should have recognized him from up here," he
remarked thoughtfully. "He has changed so much during the last few
years."
Juliet smiled, but she did not explain. She felt that she was obeying
Wingrave's wishes.
"I should have recognized him anywhere," she answered simply. "I
wonder what they are talking about. She seems so interested, and he
looks so bored."
Aynesworth looked at his watch. It was barely ten o'clock.
"I am very glad to see him here this evening," he remarked.
"I should like so much," she said, still gazing at them earnestly, "to
know that they are talking about."
. . . . . . . . . . .
"So you will not tell me," the Marchioness murmured, ceasing for a
moment the graceful movements of her fan, and looking at him steadily.
"You refuse me this--almost the first thing I have ever asked you?"
"It is scarcely," Wingrave objected, "a reasonable question."
"Between you and me," she murmured, "such punctiliousness is scarcely
necessary--is it?"
He withstood the attack of those wonderful eyes lifted swiftly to his,
and answered her gravely.
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