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He was absorbed in the piquant, highly flavored details of a particularly disgraceful divorce case, and he was by no means likely to disturb himself from his refined enjoyment for any less important reason than the summons of Lord Winsleigh's bell, which rang so seldom that, when it did, he made it a point of honor to answer it immediately, for, as he said
"Thelma my wife gone! Why should she go?" And he stared fixedly at Neville, who laid one hand soothingly on his arm. "Perhaps she is with friends," he suggested. "She may be at Lady Winsleigh's or Mrs. Lorimer's." "No, no!" interrupted Morris. "Britta, who stayed up all night for her, has since been to every house that my lady visits and no one has seen or heard of her!"
I shan't be sorry!" and Lord Winsleigh's hand clenched almost unconsciously. "I hope you understand, Errington, that if it hadn't been for my son, I should have shot that fellow long ago. I dare say you wonder, and some others too, why I haven't done it.
But there was one person who was not deceived by Lady Winsleigh's charm of manner, and grace of speech. This was Britta. Her keen eyes flashed a sort of unuttered defiance into her ladyship's beautiful, dark languishing ones she distrusted her, and viewed the intimacy between her and the "Froeken" with entire disfavor.
She had been seen nowhere as yet but in the Park, and Philip had good reason to be contented with the excitement her presence had created there, but he was a little astonished at Lady Winsleigh's being the first to extend a formal welcome to his unknown bride.
Flopper, or, as he called her, "Flopsie," the coachman, and Lady Winsleigh's own maid, Louise Renaud, a prim, sallow-faced Frenchwoman, who, by reason of her nationality, was called by all the inhabitants of the kitchen, "mamzelle," as being a name both short, appropriate, and convenient.
For years they have been estranged my visits to her were entirely on Neville's behalf my letters to her were all on the same subject. Sir Francis Lennox must have known the truth all along, Violet Vere has been his mistress for the past five years!" He uttered the concluding words with intense bitterness. A strange, bewildered horror passed over Lady Winsleigh's face.
"No, Mamzelle," he said at last, when he rose from the table to return to his duties upstairs "No! there I must differ from you. I am a close observer. Wotever Winsleigh's faults, and I do not deny that they are many, he is a gentleman-that I must admit and with hevery respect for you, Mamzelle I can assure you he's no fool!"
"Who is she?" and in spite of herself, Lady Winsleigh's smile vanished and her lips quivered. "Lady Bruce-Errington," answered Sir Francis readily. "The loveliest woman in the world, I should say! Phil was beside her he looks in splendid condition and that meek old secretary fellow sat opposite Neville isn't that his name?
"You dear little goose! You must get accustomed to this kind of thing it takes with the men immensely. Why, even your wonderful Philip has gone down behind the scenes with Neville you may be sure of that!" The startled, pitiful astonishment in the girl's face might have touched a less callous heart than Lady Winsleigh's, but her ladyship was prepared for it and only smiled.
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