"She was in mourning, and her face--she is really an extremely
beautiful girl!--was like marble. And her reception of me was almost as
cold. I am afraid that she has had more trouble than we are aware of,
there was such a preoccupied and indifferent air about her. It occurred
to me that she was fretting for her absent _fiance_, Mr. Stafford--oh,
dear me! I shall never remember to call him Lord Highcliffe!--and I
resolved to carefully refrain from mentioning him; but you know how
stupid one is in such a case, how one always talks about lameness in
the presence of a man with one leg; and in the midst of a pause in the
conversation, which, by the way, was nearly all on my side, I blurted
out with: 'Have you heard from Mr. Stafford Orme lately, Miss
Falconer?' 'I suppose you mean Lord Highcliffe, Lady Bannerdale?' she
said, turning her cold, blue eyes on my scarlet face. 'He is in
Australia, and is well. I do not hear very often from him. He is
leading a very busy life, and has little time for letter-writing, I
imagine.' Of course I got myself away as soon as I could after that,
and I'm afraid I left a very bad impression upon Miss Falconer.
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