His sense of strangeness was increased by the surprise of his companion’s next speech.

“You wish to marry my sister-in-law?” she asked abruptly; and Durham’s start of wonder was followed by an immediate feeling of relief.  He had expected the preliminaries of their interview to be as complicated as the bargaining in an Eastern bazaar, and had feared to lose himself at the first turn in a labyrinth of “foreign” intrigue.

“Yes, I do,” he said with equal directness; and they smiled together at the sharp report of question and answer.

The smile put Durham more completely at his ease, and after waiting for her to speak, he added with deliberation:  “So far, however, the wishing is entirely on my side.”  His scrupulous conscience felt itself justified in this reserve by the conditional nature of Madame de Malrive’s consent.

“I understand; but you have been given reason to hope—­”

“Every man in my position gives himself his own reasons for hoping,” he interposed with a smile.

“I understand that too,” Madame de Treymes assented.  “But still—­you spent a great deal of money the other day at our bazaar.”

“Yes:  I wanted to have a talk with you, and it was the readiest—­if not the most distinguished—­means of attracting your attention.”

“I understand,” she once more reiterated, with a gleam of amusement.

“It is because I suspect you of understanding everything that I have been so anxious for this opportunity.”

She bowed her acknowledgement, and said:  “Shall we sit a moment?” adding, as he drew their chairs under a tree:  “You permit me, then, to say that I believe I understand also a little of our good Fanny’s mind?”

“On that point I have no authority to speak.  I am here only to listen.”

“Listen, then:  you have persuaded her that there would be no harm in divorcing my brother—­since I believe your religion does not forbid divorce?”

“Madame de Malrive’s religion sanctions divorce in such a case as—­”

“As my brother has furnished?  Yes, I have heard that your race is stricter in judging such ecarts.  But you must not think,” she added, “that I defend my brother.  Fanny must have told you that we have always given her our sympathy.”

“She has let me infer it from her way of speaking of you.”

Madame de Treymes arched her dramatic eyebrows.  “How cautious you are!  I am so straightforward that I shall have no chance with you.”

“You will be quite safe, unless you are so straightforward that you put me on my guard.”

She met this with a low note of amusement.

“At this rate we shall never get any farther; and in two minutes I must go back to my mother’s visitors.  Why should we go on fencing?  The situation is really quite simple.  Tell me just what you wish to know.  I have always been Fanny’s friend, and that disposes me to be yours.”