Berenice, arrested in her forward movement, watched Mannering's face
eagerly. So carefully modulated had been Borrowdean's voice that no word
of his had reached beyond their own immediate circle. It was as though a
silent tableau were being played out between the three, and Mannering, to
whom repression had become a habit, gave little indication of anything he
might have felt. Borrowdean's fixed smile betokened nothing but an
ordinary interest in the introduction of two friends, and the Duchess's
back was turned towards her friends. They both waited for Mannering to
speak.

"This," he said, slowly, "is a surprise! I had no idea when I called to
see Borrowdean here, of the pleasure which was in store for me."

Borrowdean dropped his eyeglass.

"Are you serious, my dear Mannering?" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say
that you came here--"

"Only to see you," Mannering interrupted. "That you should know perfectly
well. I am sorry to hurry you out, but the few minutes' conversation
which I desired with you is of some importance, and my train leaves in
an hour. I hope that you will pardon me," he added, looking steadily at
Berenice, "if I hurry away one of your guests."

She laughed quite in her natural manner.

"I will forgive anything," she said, "except that you should hurry away
yourself so unceremoniously. Come and sit down near me. I want to talk to
you about Blakeley."