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Every one knows that Agnes married the man to save her family from bankruptcy. Poor girl!" Mrs. Belgrove sighed. "And she loved Noel. What a shame that she couldn't become his wife!" "Oh, that would have been absurd," said Lady Garvington pettishly. "What's the use of Hunger marrying Thirst?
But all the time she and the housekeeper were arguing what Lord Garvington would like in the way of food, the worried woman was reflecting on what Miss Greeby had said. When the menu was finally settled no easy task when it concerned the master of the house Lady Garvington sought out Mrs. Belgrove.
With her ruddy complexion and ruddy hair, and piercing blue eyes, and magnificent figure for she really had a splendid figure in spite of Mrs. Belgrove's depreciation she looked like a gigantic Norse goddess. With a flashing display of white teeth, she came along swinging her stick, or whirling her shillalah, as Mrs. Belgrove put it, and seemed the embodiment of coarse, vigorous health.
"They don't want you," observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It's your diamonds they'd like to get." "Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strong room, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me," and she effusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamonds glittered.
"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P," said Lady Garvington in her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agnes with him. They get on very well for a married couple." "All the same she doesn't love him." "He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcely bear her out of his sight." "It seems to me that he can," remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly.
"What's the matter, my dear? You look a hundred," said Mrs. Belgrove, putting up her lorgnette with a chuckle, as if she had made an original observation. But she had not, for Lady Garvington always appeared worn and weary, and sallow, and untidy.
"Oh, my dear," said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would change your mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quite dull." "Thanks ever so much," remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly.
Cats are charmingly pretty animals, and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?" "I believe she was in love with Noel herself," ruminated Lady Garvington. "Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane." "Clara Greeby." Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history.
Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw, for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastily intimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on Lady Agnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wife shielded it presumably from the fire with a large fan of white feathers. Had Mrs.
"Gypsies! How very delightful! I really must have my fortune told. The dear things know all about the future." As Mrs. Belgrove spoke she peered through her lorgnette to see if anyone at the breakfast-table was smiling. The scrutiny was necessary, since she was the oldest person present, and there did not appear to be any future for her, save that very certain one connected with a funeral.
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