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Updated: June 16, 2025
And her glance, turning from Catherine to her companion, made a little malicious signal to him which only he detected, as though bidding him take note of a curiosity. 'Yes, I care for them, I wish for their success, said Catherine, one hand, which trembled slightly, resting on the table beside her, her great gray eyes fixed on Madame de Netteville. 'No Christian has any right to do otherwise.
I think he might have made it plain to those good people that I don't want strange women at my Friday evenings. Lady Aubrey laughed. 'No doubt she is a genius, or a saint, in mufti. She might be handsome too if some one would dress her. Madame de Netteville shrugged her shoulders. 'Oh! life is not long enough to penetrate that kind of person, she said.
When the Elsmeres rose to go, she said good-bye to Catherine with an excessive politeness, under which her poor guest, conscious of her own gaucherie during the evening, felt the touch of satire she was perhaps meant to feel. But when Catherine was well ahead Madame de Netteville gave Robert one of her most brilliant smiles. 'Friday evening, Mr. Elsmere; always Fridays. You will remember?
But they were hidden deep in Elsmere's memory. A few days afterward he was casually told that Madame de Netteville had left England for some time. As a matter of fact he never set eyes on her again. After a while the extravagance of his self-blame abated. He saw things as they were without morbidness. But a certain boyish carelessness of mood he never afterward quite recovered.
But whether from oblivion, or from some instinct of grim humour towards Catherine, whom he had always vaguely disliked, the squire said not one word about his wife to Robert in the course of their talk of Madame de Netteville. Catherine took pains with her dress, sorely wishing to do Robert credit. She put on one of the gowns she had taken to Murewell when she married.
He made Madame de Netteville, therefore, a cordial smiling reply, before his tall slender form disappeared after that of his wife. 'Agreeable rather an acquisition! said Madame de Netteville to Lady Aubrey, with a light motion of the head toward Robert's retreating figure. 'But the wife! Good heavens! I owe Roger Wendover a grudge.
The other, a slim woman with closely curled fair hair, and a neck abnormally long and white, sat near her, and the circle of men was talking indiscriminately to both. As the footman announced Mr. and Mrs. Elsmere, there was a general stir of surprise. The men looked round; Madame de Netteville half rose with a puzzled look. It was more than a month since she had dropped her invitation.
The other men stood chatting politics and the latest news, till Robert, conscious of a complete failure of social energy, began to look at his watch. Instantly Madame de Netteville glided up to him. 'Mr. Elsmere, you have talked no business to me, and I must know how my affairs in Elgood Street are getting on.
Will you come? 'My Sundays are too precious to me just now, Madame de Netteville. Besides, my firm conviction is that the upper class can produce a Brook Farm, but nothing more.
The great man laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and ran lightly through a string of stories in which both missionaries and converts played parts which were either grotesque or worse. Madame de Netteville thought the stories amusing, and as one ceased she provoked another, her black eyes full of a dry laughter, her white hand lazily plying her great ostrich fan. Suddenly a figure rose behind them.
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