about midnight
Lady Catharine was resting on a sofa : she looked tired and paler than usual , not in the least available for conversation . Miss Raymond had nestled herself into the recesses of a huge arm-chair close to the fire -- she was as fond of warmth , when she could not get sunshine , as a tropical bird -- and Forrester was lounging on an ottoman behind her , so that his head almost touched her elbow . When I caught scraps of their conversation it seemed to be turning on the most ordinary subjects ; but even in these I should have felt lost -- I had been so long away from England -- so I contented myself with watching them , and wondering why discussions as to the merits of operas and inquiries after mutual acquaintances should make the fair cheeks hang out signals of distress so often as they did that evening . I lingered in the smoking-room about midnight for a moment after Forrester left us . `` So your cousin is really engaged ? '' I asked Guy . '' _ Tout ce qu'il y a du plus fiancé _ , '' was the answer .