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Marvelle, with his head very much on one side, and his bilious eyes blinking drowsily. "I don't know about repairs," replied Mrs. Marvelle. "It is a magnificent place, and certainly the grounds are ravishing.
Rush-Marvelle permitted himself to smile faintly. "Let us hope she will not turn out so badly," he said soothingly, "but, you know, if she proves to be er a common person of, er a very uneducated type you can always let her drop gently quite gently!" And he waved his skinny hand with an explanatory flourish. But Mrs. Marvelle did not accept his suggestion in good part.
Marvelle that the Van Clupps owed their invitation for this one day down to Errington Manor, for Thelma herself was not partial to them. But she did not like to refuse Mrs. Marvelle's earnest entreaty that they should be asked, and that good-natured, scheming lady having gained her point, straightway said to Marcia Van Clupp somewhat severely "Now, Marcia, this is your last chance.
Marvelle, in a tone of meek inquiry. "An American woman never has sufficient," declared Mrs. Marvelle. "You know that as well as I do. And poor dear Mrs. Van Clupp has so set her heart on a really brilliant match for her girl and I had positively promised she should have Bruce-Errington. It is really too bad!" And Mrs.
Marvelle nodded blandly. "Admirable, admirable!" he murmured, with a soft little laugh, "A very clever girl a very bright creature! And really there are worse fellows than Masherville! The title is old." "Yes, the title is all very well," retorted his wife "but there's no money or at least very little." "Marcia has sufficient to cover any deficit?" suggested Mr.
Marvelle paced the room with a stately, sweeping movement, pausing every now and then to glance at herself approvingly in the mirror above the chimney-piece, while her husband resumed his perusal of the Times. By-and-by she said abruptly "Montague!" Mr. Marvelle dropped his paper with an alarmed air. "My dear!"
Marvelle sniffs the air portentously, Lady Clara curls her lip. At that moment everybody makes respectful way for one of the most important guests of the evening a broad-shouldered man of careless attire, rough hair, fine features, and keen, mischievous eyes a man of whom many stand in wholesome awe, Beaufort Lovelace, or as he is commonly called.
Ernest came with him, of course, and they rambled about together all the time. The boy enjoyed it." "I remember now," said Mrs. Marvelle. "But I've not seen anything of you since you came back, Clara, except once in the park and once at the theatre. You've been all the time at Winsleigh Court by-the-by, was Sir Francis Lennox there too?" "Why, naturally!" replied the beauty, with a cool smile.
Marvelle, with modest self-consciousness. "You see nowadays it's so difficult to secure suitable husbands for the girls who ought to have them. Men are such slippery creatures!" She sighed and Mrs. Thelma heard of it, and went at once to proffer her congratulations to Marcia in person.
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