Marmaduke muttered something.

“I beg your pardon?” said Elinor, quickly.

“I didnt say anything.”

“I may be wrong; but I thought I heard you say ’Hang Lady Constance!’.”

“Oh, Marmaduke!” cried Marian, affectedly.  “How dare you speak so of your betrothed, sir?”

“Who says she is my betrothed?” he said, turning on her angrily.

“Why, everybody.  Even Constance admits it.”

“She ought to have the manners to wait until I ask her,” he said, subsiding.  “I’m not betrothed to her; and I dont intend to become so in a hurry, if I can help it.  But you neednt tell your father I said so.  It might get round to my governor; and then there would be a row.”

“You must marry her some day, you know,” said Elinor, maliciously.

“Must I?  I shant marry at all.  I’ve had enough of women.”

“Indeed?  Perhaps they have had enough of you.”  Marmaduke reddened.  “You seem to have exhausted the joys of this world since the concert last night.  Are you jealous of Mr. Conolly’s success?”

“Your by-play when you found how early it was at the end of the concert was not lost on us,” said Marian demurely.  “You were going somewhere, were you not?”

“Since you are so jolly curious,” said Marmaduke, unreasonably annoyed, “I went to the theatre with Connolly; and my by-play, as you call it, simply meant my delight at finding that we could get rid of you in time to enjoy the evening.”

“With Conolly!” said Marian, interested.  What kind of man is he?”

“He is nothing particular.  You saw him yourself.”

“Yes.  But is he well educated, and—­and so forth?”

“Dont know, I’m sure.  We didnt talk about mathematics and classics.”

“Well; but—­do you like him?”

“I tell you I dont care a damn about him one way or the other,” said Marmaduke, rising and walking away to the window.  His cousins, astonished, exchanged looks.

“Very well, Marmaduke,” said Marian softly, after a pause:  “I wont tease you any more.  Dont be angry.”

“You havnt teased me,” said he, coming back somewhat shamefacedly from the window.  “I feel savage to-day, though there is no reason why I should not be as jolly as a shrimp.  Perhaps Nelly will play some Chopin, just to soothe me.  I should like to hear that polonaise again.”

“I should enjoy nothing better than taking you at your word,” said Elinor.  “But I heard Mr. Lind come in, a moment ago; and he is not so fond of Chopin as you and I.”

Mr. Lind entered whilst she was speaking.  He was a dignified gentleman, with delicately chiselled features and portly figure.  His silky light brown hair curled naturally about his brow and set it off imposingly.  His hands were white and small, with tapering fingers, and small thumbs.

“How do you do, sir?” said Marmaduke, blushing.

“Thank you:  I am better than I have been.”