“Please don’t be sad. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. Courtlaw,” she remarked. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. He was an officer, and a person of very great sense, and altogether a desirable parti. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. But Gerald took it for the routine interest in an eligible bachelor, although he was aware many females had an eye for scarlet regimentals.
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