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But he had no sooner laughed at her than he found himself busy to use Watton's word in "stroking" and making it up to her, so tender and clinging was the girl's whole nature, so golden was her hair, so white her skin! "Isn't it the division news she is expecting?" "Yes but don't look so unhappy! She will bear up even if they are beaten. And they will be beaten.
"Tressady, your wife sent me to find you. She wishes to go home." The voice was Harding Watton's. That observant young man advanced bowing, and holding out his hand to Lady Maxwell. When Marcella had drifted once more into the fast-melting crowd, George found himself face to face with Letty. She was very white, and stared at him with wide, passionate eyes.
"Isn't he going to marry Letty Sewell?" "Yes," said Lady Maxwell, opening her eyes rather wide. "Do you know her?" "Why, my dear, she's Mr. Watton's cousin isn't she?" said Betty, turning towards that young man. "I saw her once at your mother's." "Certainly she is my cousin," said that young man, smiling, "and she is going to marry Tressady at Easter.
Watton's numerous letters there dropped out the fact that Letty Sewell was expected immediately at a country house in North Mercia whereof a certain Mrs. Corfield was mistress a house only distant some twenty miles from the Tressadys' estate of Ferth Place. "My sister-in-law has recovered with remarkable rapidity," said Mrs. Watton, raising a sarcastic eye.
Fontenoy, immersed in the correspondence of the morning, had not yet chanced to see the paragraph, which was Harding Watton's. Yet, if he had, he could not have shown a more haughty and embarrassed bearing.
So much I can vouch for, though I don't know her so well, perhaps, as the rest of my family do." "Oh!" said Betty, drily, releasing her husband and crossing her small hands across her knee. "That means Miss Sewell isn't one of Mr. Watton's favourite cousins. You don't mind talking about your cousins, do you? You may blacken the character of all mine. Is she nice?" "Who Letty?
And as he ran down the stairs, he heard her laugh in the drawing-room mingled with Harding Watton's. No doubt they were making merry over the "discipline" which Letty found it necessary to apply to her mother-in-law. In the House of Commons the afternoon was once more given up to the adjourned debate on the second reading of the Maxwell Bill. The House was full, and showing itself to advantage.
The gentlemen, deep in election incident and gossip, were, in the view chiefly of the successful candidate, unreasonably long in leaving the dining-room. When they appeared at last, George Tressady once more made an attempt to talk to someone else than Letty Sewell, and once more failed. "I want you to tell me something about Miss Sewell," said Lord Fontenoy presently in Mrs. Watton's ear.
And pleased both to find the ball of talk in her hands, and to have the chance of glorifying a relation in this world of people so much bigger than herself, she plunged into an extravagant account all adjectives and superlatives of Harding Watton's charms and abilities, to which Lady Maxwell listened in silence. "Tactless!" thought Mrs.
She is always making women anxious about their husbands under this pretence of politics. Heaps of women hate her, and are afraid of her." She was very white, and could hardly save herself from the tears of excitement. Yet what was working in her was not so much Harding Watton's story as this new and strange manner of her husband's.
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