The little party that had so gayly assembled in the old library broke up in the deepest gloom.

Sir John was the only one who seemed at all incredulous.
"Rely upon it," he said, "that, after all, it is some trick of the French woman." But Lady Thesiger had no such hope.
"I felt sure there was something wrong with Miles," she said.

"He was not happy.

He had married in haste and repented at leisure." For my own part, I had no hope.

Remembering the subtle, seductive beauty of the woman, I could well imagine Miles being led, even against himself, into a marriage or anything else.
When they were gone I went back to the library.