Morin. "We must be grateful to those events, madame. Had you gone, you would have stayed, and we should have been the losers. Mademoiselle comes here" (turning to Elizabeth with a smile), "and she likes us so much she means to remain."
Elton (with a sharp little laugh like a bark). "England may have a word to say to that, monsieur! We cannot allow yon to carry off all our prizes, as well as to retain your own."
Elizabeth sent one sharp glance at him across the table, and began folding up her napkin. The dinner was, indeed, over; the lamp was lit in the salon. Madame rose, and they all filed out. Once there, Elton cornered the object of his pursuit, and held her in conversation until she broke away, at the end of half an hour.
On these lines, and to this extent, more or less, was their intercourse twice every day daring the next week. Do what he would, Lord Robert could obtain no more. He was exasperated. George, on the other hand, played what I believe is called a "waiting game." He was satisfied that there was no danger to be apprehended from the enterprising young politician. If he had only time given him—time, without the introduction of any disturbing element—he was sanguine of success. But, unfortunately, time was just what he was not sure of. The accounts he received of his uncle were very much the same. He was no worse, but he was no better. If there was no improvement at the end of the week, Mr. Twisden would telegraph for his nephew.
