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Updated: June 17, 2025
They had not entertained largely in Cavendish Square since Lali came, and those invited to Greyhope had a chance to refuse the invitations if they chose. Most people did not choose to decline them. But Lady Haldwell was not of that number. She had never been invited. But now in town, when entertainment must be more general, she and the Armours were prepared for social interchange.
She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had been had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the wild, scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few minutes ago she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid to Lady Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there.
Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, she was the slightest bit confused, but not outwardly. She had not expected it. At first Lali did not know who her visitor was. She had not caught the name distinctly from the servant. Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand "I am Lady Haldwell. As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband."
"So old a friend of your husband as I am, I am hopeful you and I may be friends also." Mrs. Armour saw the move. "You are very kind," she said conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other's self-possession. "But then, in a way, I have been your friend for a long time, Mrs. Armour." The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs.
"It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our meeting." Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. They talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little foolishly, she grew bolder, with a needless selfishness.
He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He interrupted her. "Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony," he said, "but she does not always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a man it would be differently received." He came close to her.
Francis Armour must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unnecessary tenderness. She bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her mind the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace catastrophe, to be viewed without horror, maybe with pity.
Armour understood. Her reply was not wanting. "Any one who has been a friend to my husband has, naturally, claims upon me." Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the woman before her not to be reckoned with lightly. "And if an enemy?" she said, smiling. A strange smile also flickered across Mrs.
She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had been had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the wild, scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few minutes ago she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid to Lady Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there.
There is nothing keener than one woman's instinct regarding another woman, where a man is concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet stateliness, which, if it did not astonish her, gave her sufficient warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own way. Thrown upon the mere resources of wit and language, Mrs.
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