"That's quick work!" thought Mr. Sarradet; and in truth, if (as the visitor's words implied) she had never seen Arthur Lisle before, the acquaintance was going forward apace. Who could she be? He was vaguely troubled that Arthur Lisle should have--or make--a friend like that. The barouche somehow depressed him; perhaps it put him a little out of conceit with the dimensions of that precious dowry; it looked so rich. And then there had been the reserve, the distance, in Arthur's manner, his refusal to follow up leads and to take cues, and the final fact that the important question had (even though it were by accident) gone unanswered. All these things worked together to dash Mr. Sarradet's spirits. He told Marie about his visit to Arthur. She was rather surprised at a sudden fancy like that (for so he represented it) taking hold of him, but her suspicions were not roused. When he went on to describe the arrival of the other visitor she listened with natural and eager interest. But the old fellow, full of his perplexities, made a false step. "She was in the house nearly ten minutes, and then--what do you think, Marie?--they drove away together!" "In the house ten minutes? Where were you all that time?" "I was--er--strolling along." "You must have strolled pretty slowly. Where did they overtake you, Pops?" He grew rather red. "I can't remember exactly----" he began lamely. She knew him so well; his confused manner, telling that he had something to conceal, could not escape her notice. "I believe you waited round the corner to see what happened! Why did you spy on him like that?" "I don't see any particular harm in being a little curious about----" But she interrupted him. His spying after the carriage threw suspicion on his motives for his visit too. "Didn't you really go and see Mr. Lisle about anything in particular?" "Anything in particular, my dear? What do you mean? I asked him to drop in to-morrow----" "Did you talk about me?" "Oh, well, you were mentioned, of course." She leant her arm on the mantelpiece and looked down at him gravely. He read a reproachful question in her glance, and fidgeted under it. "Have you been meddling?" was what her gravely enquiring eyes asked. "Meddling as well as spying, Pops?" He was roused to defend himself. "You've got no mother, Marie, and----" "Ah!" she murmured, as a quick flash of enlightenment came. That was Aunt Louisa's phrase! She saw where it came from in a minute; it had always supplied Mrs. Veltheim with a much desired excuse for interfering. She went on in a hard voice--she was very angry--"Did you ask Mr. Lisle his intentions?" "Of course not. I--I only took the opportunity of finding out something about his people, and--and so on. Really, I think you're very unreasonable, Marie, to object----" and he wandered or maundered on about his paternal rights and duties.