Mrs. Marvelle was rather startled at the harsh, derisive laughter with which her ladyship concluded her excited observations, but she merely observed mildly-"Well, then, you will leave cards?"
"Certainly?"
"Very good--so shall I," and Mrs. Marvelle sighed resignedly. "What must be, must be! But it's really dreadful to think of it all--I would never have believed Philip Errington could have so disgraced himself!"
"He is no gentleman!" said Lady Winsleigh freezingly. "He has low tastes and low desires. He and his friend Lorimer are two cads, in my opinion!"
"Clara!" exclaimed Mrs. Marvelle warningly. "You were fond of him once!--now, don't deny it!"
"Why should I deny it?" and her ladyship's dark eyes blazed with concentrated fury. "I loved him! There! I would have done anything for him! He might have trodden me down under his feet! He knew it well enough--cold, cruel, heartless cynic as he was and is! Yes, I loved him!--but I hate him now!"
And she stamped her foot to give emphasis to her wild words. Mrs. Marvelle raised her hands and eyes in utter amazement.
"Clara, Clara! Pray, pray be careful! Suppose any one else heard you going on in this manner! Your reputation would suffer, I assure you! Really, you're horribly reckless! Just think of your husband--"
"My husband!" and a cold gleam of satire played round Lady Winsleigh's proud mouth. She paused and laughed a little. Then she resumed in her old careless way--"You must be getting very goody-goody, Mimsey, to talk to me about my husband! Why don't you read me a lecture on the duties of wives and the education of children? I am sure you know how profoundly it would interest me!"
She paced up and down the room slowly while Mrs. Marvelle remained discreetly silent. Presently there came a tap at the door, and the gorgeous Briggs entered. He held himself like an automaton, and spoke as though repeating a lesson.
"His lordship's compliments, and will her la'ship lunch in the dining-room to-day?"
"No," said Lady Winsleigh curtly. "Luncheon for myself and Mrs. Marvelle can be sent up here."
Briggs still remained immovable. "His lordship wished to know if Master Hernest was to come to your la'ship before goin' out?"
"Certainly not!" and Lady Winsleigh's brows drew together in a frown. "The boy is a perfect nuisance!"
Briggs bowed and vanished. Mrs. Rush-Marvelle grew more and more restless. She was a good-hearted woman, and there was something in the nature of Clara Winsleigh that, in spite of her easy-going conscience, she could not altogether approve of.