Nell remained silent. It was not befitting that she should discuss her
host and employer; and she wondered whether the clever undersecretary
beside her knew who she was and the position she held in the house. She
did not know enough of the world to be aware that nowadays one discusses
one's friends--even at their own tables--with a freedom which would have
shocked an earlier generation.
"I often think," he continued, "that Lord Wolfer would have served the
moralists as an instance of the vanity of human wishes."
"Why?" Nell could not help asking.
"Think of it!" he said, with a slight laugh. "He is the bearer of an old
and honored title, he is passing rich, he is a cabinet minister, he is
married to an extremely clever and charming lady--we agreed that she is
pretty, too, didn't we?--and----" He paused a moment. "Should you say
that Lord Wolfer is a happy man?"
As he put this significant question, which explained his remark about
the vanity of human wishes, Nell looked at the earl. He was apparently
listening to the duchess by his side; but his eyes, under their
straight, dark brows, were fixed upon his wife, who, leaning forward
slightly, was listening with downcast eyes and a smile to Sir Archie, a
few chairs from her.
Nell flushed.
"N-o, I don't know," she said, rather confusedly. "Lord Wolfer has so
much on his mind--politics, and----He is nearly always at work; he is
often in his study writing until early morning."
Sir Charles looked at her quickly.
"You know them very well. You are staying here?" he asked.
"I live here," said Nell simply. "I am what Sir Archie Walbrooke calls
'general utility.' Lady Wolfer has so much to do, and I help her keep
house, or try and persuade myself that I do."
Sir Charles was too much a man of the world to be discomfited; but he
laughed a little ruefully as he said: "That serves me right for discussing people with a lady with whom I
haven't the honor and pleasure of an acquaintance. It reminds me of that
very old story of the man at the evening party, which you no doubt
remember."
"No; I've heard so few stories, old or new," said Nell, smiling. "Please
tell it me."
"I will if you'll tell me your name in exchange; mine is Fletcher, but I
am usually called Sir Charles because Mr. Gresham honors me with his
close friendship. 'Charles, his friend,' as they used to put it in the
old play books, you know."