"But assertions of that kind are libels," said Errington, "You could prosecute."
"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. "Sir Philip, you ought to make her put on something warm,--I find the air growing chilly."
At that moment the ever-ready Sir Francis Lennox approached with a light woolen wrap he had found in the hall.
"Permit me!" he said gently, at the same time adroitly throwing it over Thelma's shoulders.
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?"
Lady Winsleigh assented with some eagerness,--and the two, beautiful women--the one dark, the other fair--walked side by side across the lawn into the house, their arms round each other's waists as they went.
"Two queens--and yet not rivals?" half queried Lovelace, as he watched them disappearing.
"Their thrones are secure!" returned Sir Philip gaily.
The others were silent. Lord Winsleigh's thoughts, whatever they were, deepened the lines of gravity on his face; and George Lorimer, as he got up from his couch on the grass, caught a fleeting expression in the brown eyes of Sir Francis Lennox that struck him with a sense of unpleasantness. But he quickly dismissed the impression from his mind, and went to have a quiet smoke in the shrubbery.