“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.”

Caranby bowed and crossed the room to where Basil was talking with a frowning face to Hale.  “Don’t bother me,” he was saying, “it will be all right now that the will has been read.”

“For your own sake I hope it will be all right,” replied Hale, and Caranby caught the words as he came up.  After giving his message, he sauntered round, watching the play, and seemingly listened to no one.  But all the time he kept his ears open to hear what Hale and Clancy were talking about.