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Updated: June 11, 2025
And then for climax! his concealment of the early love affair with Chloe Fairmile; his weakness and folly in letting her regain her hold upon him; his behaviour at the Brendon ball, the gossip which, as Agnes Farmer declared, was all over the neighbourhood, ending in the last baseness the assignation, the lies, the hypocrisy of the afternoon! Enough! more than enough!
You don't mean to tell me, Daphne, to my face, that you ever believed any of the lies forgive the expression that you, and your witnesses, and your lawyers told in the States that you bribed those precious newspapers to tell?" "Of course I believed it!" she said fiercely. "And as for lies, it was you who began them." "You believed that I had betrayed you with Chloe Fairmile?"
For they had only been camping a week in the house, far too busy to think of neighbours. They sat expectant and annoyed, reproaching each other with not having told the butler to say "Not at home." Lady Barnes's attitude had in it something else a little anxiety; but it escaped notice. Steps came through the hall, and the butler, throwing open the door, announced "Mrs. Fairmile."
Her thoughts broke abruptly. "He married me for money!" cried the inward voice. Then she felt her cheeks tingling as she remembered her conversation with Madeleine on that very subject how she had justified what she was now judging how plainly she had understood and condoned it. "That was my inexperience! Besides, I knew nothing then of Chloe Fairmile. If I had I should never have done it."
Then suddenly glancing again at the scattered papers "That's your hand-writing! they're your letters! letters to Mrs. Fairmile!" "Well, and what do you make of that?" cried Roger, half wroth, half inclined to laugh. "If you want to know, they are the letters I wrote to Chloe Fairmile; and I, like a careless beast, never destroyed them, and they were stuffed away here.
Chloe Fairmile, who was standing in her riding-habit at the window of the Duchess's morning-room, turned to greet her hostess. A mild November sun shone on the garden and the woods, and Chloe's face the more exquisite as a rule for its slight, strange withering had caught a freshness from the morning. The Duchess was embraced, and bore it; she herself never kissed anybody.
Fairmile next Tuesday to dinner, to meet Roger Barnes and his wife? I groan at the thought, for I think she is quite one of the most disagreeable little creatures I ever saw. But Warton says I must a Lord-Lieutenant can't pick and choose! and people as rich as they are have to be considered. I can't imagine why it is she makes herself so odious.
"Well, now, when will you all come to Upcott?" Mrs. Fairmile said graciously, as she shook hands. "The Duchess will be enchanted to see you any day, and " "Thank you! but we really can't come so far," said a determined voice. "We have only a shaky old motor our new one isn't ready yet and besides, we want all our time for the house." "You make him work so hard?" Mrs.
She had generously helped the public collections, and her own small gallery, at the house in Newport, was famous throughout England and America. That in the course of the preceding year she had found among the signatures, extracted from visitors by the custodian in charge, the name of Chloe Fairmile, had given her a peculiar satisfaction.
"I don't know as much as Dr. Lelius." Humour leaped into the eyes fixed upon her; but Mrs. Fairmile only said: "That's not given to the rest of us mortals. But after all, having's better than knowing. Don't don't you possess the Vitali Signorelli?" Her voice was most musical and flattering. Daphne smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, we do. It's in London now waiting till we can find a place for it."
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