Maraquito did not know what to make of the ironical old gentleman. It seemed to her that he was hostile, but she could take no offence at what he said. Moreover, as he was Mallow's uncle, she did not wish to quarrel with him. With a graceful gesture she indicated a glass of champagne. "Will you not drink to our better acquaintance?" "Certainly," said Caranby without emotion, and sipped a few drops of the golden-colored wine. "I hope to see much of you." "I reciprocate the hope," said Maraquito radiantly, "and I'll tell you a secret. I have been consulting specialists, and I find that in a few months I shall be able to walk as well as ever I did." "Excellent news," said Caranby, "I hope you will." "And, moreover," added Maraquito, looking at him from behind her fan; "I shall then give up this place. I have plenty of money, and--" "You will go back to Spain?" "That depends. Should I leave my heart in England--" "How I envy the man you leave it with." Maraquito looked down moodily. "He doesn't care for my heart." "What a stone he must be. Now I--upon my word I feel inclined to marry and cut my nephew out of the title." "Your nephew," stammered Maraquito, with a flash of her big eyes. "You know him well, he tells me," chatted Caranby garrulously, "a handsome fellow is Cuthbert. I am sure the lady he is engaged to thinks as much, and very rightly too." "Miss Saxon!" cried Maraquito, breaking her fan and looking furious. "Ah!" said Caranby coolly, "you know her?" "I know of her," said Maraquito bitterly. "Her brother Basil comes here sometimes, and said his sister was engaged to--but they will never marry--never!" she said vehemently. "How can you tell that?" "Because the mother objects to the match." "Ah! And who told you so? Mr. Basil Saxon?" "Yes. He does not approve of it either." "I fear that will make little difference. Mallow is set on the marriage. He loves Miss Saxon with all his heart." Maraquito uttered a low cry of rage, but managed to control herself with an effort. "Do you?" she asked. Caranby shrugged his thin shoulders. "I am neutral. So long as Cuthbert marries the woman he loves, I do not mind." "And what about the woman who loves him?" "Miss Saxon? Oh, I am sure--" "I don't mean Miss Saxon, and he will never marry her--never. You know that Mr. Mallow is poor. Miss Saxon has no money--" "Pardon me. I hear her aunt, Miss Loach, who was unfortunately murdered at Rexton, has left her six thousand a year." Senora Gredos turned quite pale and clenched her hands, but she managed to control herself again with a powerful effort and masked the rage she felt under a bland, false smile. "Oh, that makes a difference," she said calmly. "I hope they will be happy--if they marry," she added significantly. "Oh, that is quite settled," said Caranby. "There's many a slip between the cup and the lip," said Maraquito viciously. "Yonder is Mr. Saxon. Tell him to come to me."