Part 34 (1/2)
Barnard's face became profoundly interested.
”But don't you care for society?” he said, his eyes travelling expressively over her pretty dress.
Again she coloured.
”It isn't that,” she said in a low, quick voice. ”James doesn't care about parties--or people----”
Barnard's lips parted to express surprise or sympathy; but she finished her sentence hastily.
”--And of course I like what he likes.”
Barnard bent his head.
”Of course,” he said enigmatically, and dropped back into silence.
For a time he remained apparently absorbed in his dinner. Then, as Clodagh began to wonder uncomfortably whether she had unwittingly offended him, he turned to her again.
”Mrs. Milbanke,” he said softly, ”would you think me very presumptuous if I were to make a little proposal?”
Clodagh brightened.
”Of course not! Say anything you like.”
”You will be here for a week?”
”I--I hope so.” She glanced covertly at Milbanke.
”Oh yes, you will! I shall arrange it.”
She looked at him quickly.
”You?” she said. ”How?”
”Never mind how!” He smiled rea.s.suringly. ”You will be here for a week; and my proposal is that, while Milbanke is settling his business, I should be allowed to introduce you to some English friends of mine who are in Venice just now. It may be presumptuous, but I seem to feel”--he hesitated for a moment--”I seem to feel that you want to make some new friends--that you want to have a good time. Forgive my being so very blunt!”
Clodagh sat silent. She felt no resentment at his words, but they vaguely embarra.s.sed her. The new possibility thrilled her; yet insensibly she hesitated before it.
”But ought I to want new friends?” she asked at last in a very low and undecided voice.
Barnard laid down the gla.s.s that he was lifting to his lips, and looked at her quickly. Her freshness charmed, while her _navete_ puzzled him.
”Well, Mrs. Milbanke,” he said suddenly, ”suppose we find that out?”
And, leaning forward, he addressed Milbanke.
”James,” he said, ”I have just been making a little suggestion. While you and I are putting our ancient heads together, don't you think Mrs.
Milbanke ought to study her Venice--local colour--atmosphere--all that sort of thing?”
Milbanke turned in his seat.