"But I want to. I like sitting next to him. I didn't before I came here."
"Frederick could think of nothing to say to this, so he only smiled generally.
"It's this place," she said, nodding at him. "It makes one understand. You've no idea what a lot you'll understand before you've done here."
"I'm sure I hope so," said Frederick with real fervour.
The soup was taken away, and the fish was brought. Briggs, on the other side of the empty chair, seemed more uneasy than ever. What was the matter with Briggs? Didn't he like fish?
Frederick wondered what Briggs would do in the way of fidgets if he were in his own situation. Frederick kept on wiping his moustache, and was not able to look up from his plate, but that was as much as he showed of what he was feeling.
Though he didn't look up he felt the eyes of the young woman opposite raking him like searchlights, and Rose's eyes were on him too, he knew, but they rested on him unquestioningly, beautifully, like a benediction. How long would they go on doing that once Lady Caroline was there? He didn't know; he didn't know anything.
He wiped his moustache for the twentieth unnecessary time, and could not quite keep his hand steady, and the young woman opposite saw his hand not being quite steady, and her eyes raked him persistently. Why did her eyes rake him persistently? He didn't know; he didn't know anything.
Then Briggs leapt to his feet. What was the matter with Briggs? Oh--yes--quite: she had come.
Frederick wiped his moustache and got up too. He was in for it now. Absurd, fantastic situation. Well, whatever happened he could only drift--drift, and look like an ass to Lady Caroline, the most absolute as well as deceitful ass--an ass who was also a reptile, for she might well think he had been mocking her out in the garden when he said, no doubt in a shaking voice--fool and ass--that he had come because he couldn't help it; while as for what he would look like to his Rose--when Lady Caroline introduced him to her--when Lady Caroline introduced him as her friend whom she had invited in to dinner--well, God alone knew that.
He, therefore, as he got up wiped his moustache for the last time before the catastrophe.
But he was reckoning without Scrap.
That accomplished and experienced young woman slipped into the chair Briggs was holding for her, and on Lotty's leaning across eagerly, and saying before any one else could get a word in, "Just fancy, Caroline, how quickly Rose's husband has got here!" turned to him without so much as the faintest shadow of surprise on her face, and held out her hand, and smiled like a young angel, and said, "and me late your very first evening."