"Come and sit by me, Mr. Carstares. I have wanted to speak with you this long time." She lowered her mask as she spoke and closely scrutinised his face with her bright, humorous eyes.
"Why, madam, I am flattered," bowed Richard.
She cut him short.
"I am not in the mood for compliments, sir. Nor am I desirous of making or hearing clever speeches. You are worrying me."
Richard sat down, intrigued and attracted by this downright little woman.
"I, madam?"
"You, sir. That is, your face worries me." Seeing his surprise, she laughed, fanning herself. "'Tis comely enough, I grant you! I mean there is such a strong likeness to-a friend of mine."
Richard smiled politely and relieved her of the fan.
"Indeed, madam?"
"Yes. I knew-this other gentleman in Vienna, three years ago. I should judge him younger than you, I think. His eyes were blue, but very similar to yours. His nose was almost identical with yours, but the mouth-n-no. Yet the whole expression-" She broke off, noticing her companion's sudden pallor. "But you are unwell, sir?"
"No, madam, no! What was your friend's name?"
"Ferndale," she answered. "Anthony Ferndale."
The fan stopped its swaying for a moment.
"Ah!" said Richard.
"Do you know him?" she inquired eagerly.
"Many years ago, madam, I was-acquainted with him. Can you tell me-was he in good spirits when last you saw him?"
She pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"If you mean was he gay, was he witty-yes. But sometimes I thought-Mr. Carstares, when he was silent, his eyes were so sad-! Indeed, I do not know why I tell you this."
"You may be sure, madam, your confidence is safe with me. I had-a great regard for this gentleman." He opened and shut her fan as he spoke, fidgeting with the slender sticks. "You, too, were interested in him, madam?"
"I do not think ever anyone knew him and was not, sir. It was something in his manner, his personality-I cannot explain-that endeared him to one. And he once-aided me-when I was in difficulties."
Richard, remembering scraps of gossip concerning the widow's past, merely bowed his head.
She was silent for a time, staring down at her hands, but presently she looked up smiling, and took her fan away from him.
"I cannot abide a fidget, sir!" she told him. "And I see Lord Fotheringham approaching. I am promised to him this dance." She rose, but Richard detained her.
"Mrs. Fanshawe, will you permit me to call upon you? I would hear more of-your friend. You, mayhap, think it strange-but-"
"No," she answered. "I do not. Certainly call upon me, sir. I lodge in Mount Street with my sister-No. 16."