Think of her words at the breakfast this morning!' The Countess imagined she had produced an impression.

Evan said: 'Yes, and I should have liked to have told her this morning that I'm myself nothing more than the son of a--' 'Stop! cried his sister, glancing about in horror.

The admiring lieutenant met her eye.

Blandishingly she smiled on him: 'Most beautiful weather for a welcome to dear England ?' and passed with majesty.
'Boy!' she resumed, 'are you mad ?' 'I hate being such a hypocrite, madam.' 'Then you do not love her, Evan ?' This may have been dubious logic, but it resulted from a clear sequence of ideas in the lady's head.

Evan did not contest it.
'And assuredly you will lose her, Evan.