Mrs. Fanshawe drew him down beside her on the settee.

“I am very well, Mr. Carstares. And you?”

“Also,” he smiled, but his looks belied his words.

She told him so, laughing, and he pleaded a worried week.

“Well, sir, I presume you did not come to talk to me about your health, but about my friend⁠—eh?”

“I assure⁠—”

“Remember, no vapid compliments!” she besought.

“Then, madam, yes. I want to hear about⁠—Ferndale. You see, I⁠—like you⁠—took a great interest in him.”

She sent him a shrewd glance, and nodded.