"Pretty little shrew!" he said, in an aside to Marius Longford--"She is really charming,--and I begin to think I want her as much for herself as for her aunt's millions!"
Longford smiled obsequiously.
"There is a certain air of originality, or shall we say individuality, about the lady,"--he observed, with a critical, not to say insolent stare in Maryllia's direction,--"The French term 'beaute du diable' expresses it best. But whether the charm will last, is another question."
"No woman's beauty lasts more than a few years,"--said Roxmouth, as he glanced at the various guests who had entered or were entering. "Lady Beaulyon wears well--but she is forty years old, and begins to show it. Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must be fifty, and she doesn't show it--she manages her Paris cosmetics wonderfully. Some of these county ladies would be better for a little touch of her art! But Maryllia Vancourt needs no paint,--she can afford to be natural. Is that the parson?"
Walden was just entering the room, and Longford put up his glasses.
"Yes,"--he replied--"That is the parson. He is not without character."
Roxmouth became suddenly interested. He saw Walden go up to his hostess and bow--he also saw the sudden smile that brightened Maryllia's face as she welcomed her clerical guest,--the one Churchman of the party.
"Rather a distinguished looking fellow,"--he commented carelessly-- "Is he clever?"
Longford hesitated. He had been pulverised in one of the literary weeklies by an article on the authenticity of Shakespeare's plays, signed boldly 'John Walden'--and he had learned, by cautious enquiries here and there in London, that though, for the most part, extremely unassuming, the aforesaid John Walden was considered an authority in matters of historical and antiquarian research. But he was naturally anxious that the future Duke of Ormistoune, when he had secured Mrs. Fred Vancourt's millions, should not expend his powerful patronage to a country clergyman who might, from a 'Savage and Savile' point of view, be considered an interloper. So he replied with caution: "I believe he dabbles a little in literary and archaeological pursuits,--many parsons do. As an archaeologist, he certainly has merit. You entertain a favourable opinion of the church, he has restored?"
"The church, as I have before told you, is perfect,"--replied Roxmouth--"And the man who carried out such a design must needs be an interesting personality. I think Miss Vancourt finds him so!"
His cold grey eyes lightened unpleasantly as he made this remark, and Marius Longford, quick to discern every shade of tone in a voice, recognised a touch of satire in the seemingly casual words. He made no observation, however, but kept his lynx eyes and ears open, watching and listening for anything that might perchance be of use in furthering his patron's desires and aims.