a moment. Then she added, simply, "I want to ask you about Mrs. Headway."
"Ah, here it is!" cried Waterville within himself. More superficially, he smiled, as agreeably as possible, and said, "Ah yes, I see!"
"Do you mind my asking you? I hope you don't mind. I have n't any one else to ask."
"Your son knows her much better than I do."
Waterville said this without an intention of malice, simply to escape from the difficulties of his situation; but after he had said it, he was almost frightened by its mocking sound.
"I don't think he knows her. She knows him, which is very different. When I ask him about her, he merely tells me she is fascinating. She is fascinating," said her ladyship, with inimitable dryness.
"So I think, myself. I like her very much," Waterville rejoined, cheerfully.
"You are in all the better position to speak of her, then."
"To speak well of her," said Waterville, smiling.
"Of course, if you can. I should be delighted to hear you do that. That's what I wish—to hear some good of her."
It might have seemed, after this, that nothing would have remained but for Waterville to launch himself in a panegyric of his mysterious countrywoman; but he was no more to be tempted into that danger than into another. "I can only say I like her," he repeated. "She has been very kind to me."
