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The die was cast, the authority of Beau Lovelace was nearly supreme in fashionable and artistic circles, and from the moment he was seen devoting his attention to the "new beauty," excited whispers began to flit from mouth to mouth, "She will be the rage this season!" "We must ask her to come to us!" "Do ask Lady Winsleigh to introduce us!" "She must come to our house!" and so on.
A great many people were out of town, all who had leisure and money enough to liberate themselves from the approaching evils of an English winter, had departed or were departing, Beau Lovelace had gone to Como, George Lorimer had returned with Duprez to Paris, and Thelma had very few visitors except Lady Winsleigh, who was more often with her now than ever.
There was evidently something in the man's disposition and character that he, Philip, could not as yet comprehend, something that certainly puzzled him, and filled him with vague uneasiness. "Winsleigh, I'm awfully sorry this has happened," he began hurriedly, holding out his hand. Lord Winsleigh grasped it cordially. "My dear fellow, so am I! Heartily sorry!
Clara laughed harshly and played with her fan. "Dear me, Mimsey! . . . you are perfectly outrageous! Do you think I'm an ogress ready to eat her up? On the contrary, I mean to be a friend to her." Mrs. Marvelle still looked grave. "I'm glad to hear it," she said; "only some friends are worse than declared enemies." Lady Winsleigh shrugged her shoulders.
But, Clara, you must understand me well, even if this were so, I should never blame him no not once!" "Not blame him?" cried Lady Winsleigh impatiently. "Not blame him for infidelity?" A deep blush swept over her face at the hated word "infidelity," but she answered steadily "No. Because, you see, it would be my fault, not his.
"Too much trouble!" declared Beau. "Besides, five journals have disclosed the name of the town where I was born, and as they all contradict each other, and none of them are right, any contradiction on my part would be superfluous!" They laughed, and at that moment Lady Winsleigh joined them. "Are you not catching cold, Thelma?" she inquired sweetly.
Now, if Philip were to love me no longer, I should be like that flower, and how would HE be to blame? He would be good as ever, but I I should have ceased to seem pleasant to him that is all!" She put this strange view of the case quite calmly, as if it were the only solution to the question. Lady Winsleigh heard her, half in contemptuous amusement, half in dismay.
It's too ridiculous!" Lady Winsleigh sprang to her feet, and her eyes flashed disdainfully. "What am I going to do?" she repeated, in accents of bitter contempt. "Why, receive them, of course! It will be the greatest punishment Bruce-Errington can have! I'll get all the best people here that I know and he shall bring his peasant woman among them, and blush for her! It will be the greatest fun out!
"She'll never hear one from me!" he returned, with so tender and earnest a look on his face, that Lady Winsleigh's heart ached for jealousy. "I must really go and see how she is. She's been exerting herself too much to-day. Excuse me!" and with a courteous smile and bow he left the room with a hurried and eager step. Alone, Lady Winsleigh smiled bitterly. "Men are all alike!" she said half aloud.
Lady Winsleigh looked at her, then said suddenly in a low voice "It will break her heart!" Sir Francis assumed an air of polite surprise. "Pardon! Whose heart?" She pointed slightly to the white figure on the terrace. "Hers! Surely you must know that?" He smiled. "Well isn't that precisely what you desire Clara?
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