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"I would not question my husband on such a subject," she said proudly. "Oh well! if you are so fastidious!" And Lady Winsleigh shrugged her shoulders. "I am not fastidious," returned Thelma, "only I do wish to be worthy of his love, and I should not be so if I doubted him. No, Clara, I will trust him to the end." Clara Winsleigh drew nearer to her, and took her hand.
She colored a little, she did not care for his attention, but she could not very well ignore it without seeming to be discourteous. So she murmured, "Thank you!" and, rising from her chair, addressed Lady Winsleigh. "If you feel cold, Clara, you will like some tea," she said. "Shall we go indoors, where it is ready?"
"At a public-school, you see, the boys are educated on hard and fast lines all ground down to one pattern, there's no chance of any originality possible. But don't let me detain you, Mrs. Marvelle you have no doubt much to say to Lady Winsleigh. Come, Ernest! If I let you off Virgil, you must do the rest of your work thoroughly."
Lord Winsleigh met his look of sympathy with one of gratitude. "Thanks!" he said briefly, and with this they shook hands again heartily, and parted. Lord Winsleigh saw his visitor to the door and then at once returned to his wife's apartments. She was still absent from the boudoir he therefore entered her dressing-room without ceremony.
"He follows me everywhere like a dog! Poor Lennie!" Again the elder lady coughed significantly. Clara Winsleigh broke into a ringing peal of laughter, and rising from her lounge, knelt beside her visitor in a very pretty coaxing attitude. "Come, Mimsey!" she said, "you are not going to be proper at this time of day! That would be a joke!
"I am exceedingly flattered!" says Lovelace, with a grave bow, though there is a little twinkling mockery in his glance. "When a lady so bewitching condescends to read what I have written, how can I express my emotion!" "The press is unanimous in its praise of you," remarks Lord Winsleigh cordially. "You are quite the lion of the day!" "Oh quite!" agrees Beau laughing.
What sights the women do make of themselves!" But his face betrays none of these reflections, its expression is one of polite gravity, though a sudden sweetness smooths it as he shakes hands with Lord Winsleigh and Lorimer, a sweetness that shows how remarkably handsome Beau can look if he chooses. He rests one hand on Lorimer's shoulder.
Lord Winsleigh paused a moment, and seemed to consider. Then he said "See that her ladyship's supper is prepared in the dining-room. She will most probably return rather late. Should she inquire for me, say I am at the Carlton." Again Briggs responded, "Very good, my lord!"
"And do I not roar 'as sweet as any nightingale'? But I say, where's the new beauty?" "I really do not know to whom you allude, Mr. Lovelace," replies Lady Winsleigh coldly. Lorimer smiles and is silent. Beau looks from one to the other amusedly. "Perhaps I've made a mistake," he says, "but the Duke of Roxwell is responsible.
"They would not be sociable!" she afterwards complained to Lady Winsleigh. "They tried to be as rude to each other as they could!" Lady Winsleigh laughed. "Of course!" she said. "What else did you expect! It will be a delicious study of expression, I assure you!"
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