"Oh, as you please," she said. "But we go into the country to-morrow, and shan't be back for ages. You might just talk to Edgar and me for five minutes."
Now, Charlie believed that Edgar had left town that morning. He deliberately chose to forget that. He must indeed be mistaken after what Lucia had said. He leaped at it.
"Ah, yes. I want to see Edgar," he said.
Lucia smiled at him.
"You are too humiliating," she said. "You will come in to see Edgar, but not to see me. However, come in on any terms. Yes, wait, please," she added to the chauffeur. "Mr. Lindsay will drive back in ten minutes."
She was radiant: she had won; and as he came into the hall she looked at him, just shaking her head at him.
"You silly boy," she said, "I wanted you just to keep me company while I ate one mouthful of supper, and you make all this fuss. Go into the dining-room, and—and talk to Edgar. I will follow you in a moment. I must just look at these telegrams. I never come home without finding telegrams."
The room was empty, but a small table was laid for two, and a servant was just bringing in a tray of supper. Lucia hated letting herself into a dark house, and having to fumble for lights and food, and a couple of weary footmen had always to be up at whatever hour she returned. Then Charlie heard a peal of laughter from the hall, and Lucia entered, waving a telegram.
"Chubby, it's too funny," she said. "You will think me such a liar! But whom do you suppose this telegram is from? It's from Edgar. He's down at Brayton. He went to-day. I quite forgot. Don't you believe me? Look—there are places for two."
Charlie pulled himself together; he knew, poor soul! far too well how hopelessly he had fallen in love with Lucia, but it would be doing her a monstrous injustice to suppose that she had any suspicion of it. Had she known she would never have asked him to come in like this, except in the belief that Edgar was there. She had spent all the evening, too, with his wife. She could not know. Yet words she had said, phrases she had used, came back to him. Only this evening she had told him what a pearl Maud was; that he must be worthy of her. To his secret sense that had so tremendous a meaning that it seemed incredible that to Lucia it should mean only just that which it said, that it should
