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Updated: May 8, 2025
He had lived with Tita long enough to know the sort of message she would be sure to send. Margaret mumbled something after that, never very clear to either of them, and Rylton had gone on to say that he was going down to the country for a month. He was starting on Monday next. He had said all that on Thursday, and this is Tuesday.
"What do you mean?" asks Rylton, calmly enough, but with a change of colour. "Ah! you will not betray her, but I know. It was Mrs. Bethune. Now" she goes nearer to him, her pretty, childish face transformed by grief and anger "now, confess, it was!" She draws back again. "No," says she, sighing disconsolately. "No, of course you would not tell.
Chichester has a husband somewhere!" "So she told me," says Tita. "But, then, he is so very far off, and in your Society distance counts." Rylton regards her with some surprise. Is she satirical? this silly child! "You will have to correct your ideas about Society," says he coldly. "By all means ask Mrs. Chichester here, too; I, for one, prefer not to believe in scandals."
"I don't suppose," coldly, "you thought at all." "Certainly I never thought I was going to get a scolding on my return!" "A scolding! I shouldn't dream of scolding so advanced a person as you," says Rylton who is scolding with all his might. "I wonder what you think you are doing now?" says Tita. She pauses and looks at him critically. He returns her gaze.
"I fear she will always have to care for other cats' kittens!" "Do you? I don't," says Marian, who, though she detests most people, has always a strange tenderness for Margaret. "What do you mean?" asks Lady Rylton sharply. "I think she will marry Colonel Neilson." "Don't make yourself more absurd than you need be!" says her aunt contemptuously. "An old maid like that!
"The fact is, Margaret," says Lady Rylton, with some agitation, "that if Maurice doesn't marry this girl, there there will be an end of us all. He must marry her." "But he doesn't love he barely knows her and a marriage without love " "Is the safest thing known." "Under given circumstances!
She wound up with a few very rude remarks directed at Mrs. Rylton wasn't in the least annoyed by this letter; indeed, it somewhat puzzled him to find that he rather liked it, and he put it away in his private drawer, amongst the papers he cared for. Margaret had taken Tita to Rome, and thence to Constantinople.
But it is not Peter who comes forward. "Maurice!" says Marian Bethune, in a tone that is barely above a whisper. She is with him now, her hands upon his arms, her eyes riveted upon his. "You!" says Rylton. His voice is as low as her own, and strange it sounds strange even to himself. Her hands are lying on his arms the little hands he used to call snowflakes long ago. Great heaven! how long ago!
But you, you have been dancing all the night with that horrid Mrs. Bethune. Yes!" letting her hands fall, and coming towards him with a face like a little angry angel "you may say what you like, but you have been dancing all night with her. And she is horrid." This is carrying the war into the enemy's camp with a vengeance. There is something in her tone that startles Rylton.
"But if you are to be Lady Rylton as well as I, how are we to distinguish? What am I to be?" "The dowager, I suppose," says Tita, with a little flash of malice. She has been rubbed the wrong way a trifle too much for one afternoon. "The dowager!" Lady Rylton springs to her feet. "I do you think that I shall follow you out of a room?" "Follow me!
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