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Marvelle at once entered, and the occupant of the room sprang up in haste from her luxurious reading-chair, where she was having her long tresses brushed out by a prim-looking maid, and uttered an exclamation of delight. "My dearest Mimsey!" she cried, "this is quite too sweet of you! You're just the very person I wanted to see!"
Then she resumed in her old careless way "You must be getting very goody-goody, Mimsey, to talk to me about my husband! Why don't you read me a lecture on the duties of wives and the education of children? I am sure you know how profoundly it would interest me!" She paced up and down the room slowly while Mrs. Marvelle remained discreetly silent.
"He follows me everywhere like a dog! Poor Lennie!" Again the elder lady coughed significantly. Clara Winsleigh broke into a ringing peal of laughter, and rising from her lounge, knelt beside her visitor in a very pretty coaxing attitude. "Come, Mimsey!" she said, "you are not going to be proper at this time of day! That would be a joke!
On arriving at the Van Clupps', they found no one at home not even Marcia so Lady Winsleigh drove her "dearest Mimsey" back to her own house in Kensington, and there left her with many expressions of tender endearment then, returning home, proceeded to make an elaborate and brilliant toilette for the enchantment and edification of Sir Francis Lennox that evening.
Meanwhile Mrs. Marvelle, in her way across the great hall to the "boo-dwar," had been interrupted and nearly knocked down by the playful embrace of a handsome boy, who sprang out upon her suddenly with a shout of laughter, a boy of about twelve years old, with frank, bright blue eyes and clustering dark curls. "Hullo, Mimsey!" cried this young gentleman-"here you are again!
Clara laughed harshly and played with her fan. "Dear me, Mimsey! . . . you are perfectly outrageous! Do you think I'm an ogress ready to eat her up? On the contrary, I mean to be a friend to her." Mrs. Marvelle still looked grave. "I'm glad to hear it," she said; "only some friends are worse than declared enemies." Lady Winsleigh shrugged her shoulders.
"Go along, Mimsey, go home to bed!" she exclaimed impatiently. "You are insense! I hate sentimental philosophy and copy-book platitudes!" She laughed again and folded her hands with an air of mock penitence, "There! I didn't mean to be rude! Good-night, dear old darling!" "Good-night, Clara!" and Mrs.
"It's a pity she can't conquer that defect," agreed Mrs. Marvelle. "I know she has tried. But, after all, they're not the best sort of Americans " "The best sort! I should think not! But they're of the richest sort, and that's something, Mimsey!
Darling, indulgent, good old Mimsey! you don't mean to turn into a prim, prosy, cross Mrs. Grundy! I won't believe it! And you mustn't be severe on poor Lennie he's such a docile, good boy, and really not bad-looking!" Mrs. Marvelle fidgeted a little on her chair.
"Going already, Mimsey?" she queried, then, in a lower tone, she said, "Well! what do you think of her?" "A beautiful child no more!" answered Mrs. Marvelle, then, studying with some gravity the brilliant brunette face before her, she added in a whisper, "Leave her alone, Clara, don't make her miserable! You know what I mean! It wouldn't take much to break her heart."
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