“I suppose you know what Romayne thinks of it?”
“Not yet. I have been too busy to call on him since I have been in town. Pardon me, Lady Loring, who is that beautiful creature in the pale yellow dress? Surely I have seen her somewhere before?”
“That beautiful creature, Major, is the bold young lady of whose conduct you don’t approve.”
“I retract everything I said!” cried the Major, quite shamelessly. “Such a woman as that may do anything. She is looking this way. Pray introduce me.”
The Major was introduced, and Lady Loring returned to her guests.
“I think we have met before, Major Hynd,” said Stella.
Her voice supplied the missing link in the Major’s memory of events. Remembering how she had looked at Romayne on the deck of the steamboat, he began dimly to understand Miss Eyrecourt’s otherwise incomprehensible anxiety to be of use to the General’s family. “I remember perfectly,” he answered. “It was on the passage from Boulogne to Folkestone--and my friend was with me. You and he have no doubt met since that time?” He put the question as a mere formality. The unexpressed thought in him was, “Another of them in love with Romayne! and nothing, as usual, likely to come of it.”
“I hope you have forgiven me for going to Camp’s Hill in your place,” said Stella.
“I ought to be grateful to you,” the Major rejoined. “No time has been lost in relieving these poor people--and your powers of persuasion have succeeded, where mine might have failed. Has Romayne been to see them himself since his return to London?”
“No. He desires to remain unknown; and he is kindly content, for the present, to be represented by me.”
A faint flush passed over her delicate complexion. “I have succeeded,” she resumed, “in inducing Madame Marillac to accept the help offered through me to her son. The poor creature is safe, under kind superintendence, in a private asylum. So far, I can do no more.”
“Nothing, either for herself or her daughter, so long as they can work. I cannot tell you how patiently and beautifully she speaks of her hard lot. But her health may give way--and it is possible, before long, that I may leave London.” She paused; the flush deepened on her face. “The failure of the mother’s health may happen in my absence,” she continued; “and Mr. Romayne will ask you to look after the family, from time to time, while I am away.”