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Updated: May 1, 2025
"And it was to be a reconciliation dinner, after the old nonsense between her and Lady Parham," sighed Lady Tranmore. "It was planned for Kitty entirely. And she is to act something, isn't she, with that young De La Rivière from the embassy? I believe the Princess is coming expressly to meet her. I have been hearing of it on all sides. She can't throw it over!" Margaret shrugged her shoulders.
The maid replied that she believed so, and, bringing a volume which had been laid aside with a mark in it, she opened on a fantastic plate of Madame de Longueville, as Diana, in a gorgeous hunting-dress. Lady Tranmore looked at it in silence; she thought it unseemly, with its bare ankles and sandalled feet, and likely to be extremely expensive.
No fiat from without had bound her; but love had brought her to his feet. There was something in him which triumphed alike in her revolt and her submission. Meanwhile, in the cool drawing-room to which the green persiennes gave a pleasant foreign look, Lady Tranmore had been waiting for the maid's return.
He told her in a faltering voice. She received it very quietly, even with a little, queer, twisting laugh. "I thought he wouldn't. Was Lady Tranmore there?" The Dean replied that Lady Tranmore had been there. "Ah, then, of course there was no chance," said Kitty. "When one is as good as that, one never forgives." She looked up quickly. "Did William say he forgave me?" The Dean hesitated.
Margaret paused, with her hand on the back of Lady Tranmore's chair, and there was a short silence. Then Lady Tranmore began, in a tone that endeavored not to be too serious: "I don't know how you're going to get out of it, my dear. Lady Parham has asked the Princess, first because she wished to come, secondly as an olive-branch to you.
"He can come down again afterwards," said Kitty. "I want to talk to you. Take him, Margaret." The babe went without a whimper, still following his mother with his eyes. "He looks rather frail," said Lady Tranmore. "I hope you'll soon be sending him to the country, Kitty." "He's very well," said Kitty. Then she took off her hat and looked at the invitations Margaret had been writing.
That extraordinary woman, followed everywhere by the attentive observation of the crowd, had never asserted herself more sharply in dress, manner, and coiffure than on this particular evening so it seemed, at least, to Lady Tranmore.
"Nobody is indispensable, and if that old woman is provoked, she will be capable of any mischief." "What do you want for William?" said Mary, smiling. "He ought, of course, to have the Home Office!" replied Lady Tranmore, with fire. Mary vowed that he would certainly have it. "Kitty is so clever, she will understand how important discretion is, before things go too far."
Lady Tranmore had just begun to waver in a final despair when the door opened and William Ashe entered. He looked in astonishment at his mother and wife. Then in a flash he understood, and, with an involuntary gesture of fatigue, he turned to go. "William!" cried his mother, hurrying after him, "don't go. Kitty and I were disputing; but it is nothing, dear! Don't go, you look so tired.
Loraine, the latter a man now verging on old age, white-haired and wrinkled, but breathing still through every feature and every movement the scarcely diminished energy of his magnificent prime. He stood with bent head, listening attentively, but, as Lady Tranmore thought, coldly, to the arguments that Cliffe was pouring out upon him.
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