"Base ingratitude," said Lord Bracondale, with feeling; "but couldn't
you stuff these in the hiatus," and he tenderly lifted a bunch of
nut-brown curls from the dressing-table. "They would fill up the gap and
keep the fractious thing steady."
"Of course they would," said Mrs. McBride; "but I have a rooted
objection to auxiliary nature trimmings. That bunch was sent with the
hat, and Marie has been trying to persuade me to wear it ever since we
began this struggle. But I won't! My hair's my own, and I don't mean to
have any one else's alongside of it. There is my trouble."
"If milor were to hold madame's 'at one side, while I de other, madame
might force her emerald parrot pin through him," suggested Marie, which
advice was followed, and the widow beamed with satisfaction at the
gratifying result.
"There!" she exclaimed, with a sigh of relief, "that will do; and I am
just ready. Gloves, handkerchief--oh! and my purse, Marie." And in five
minutes more she was leading the way back into her sitting-room.
"I have not ordered lunch until one o'clock," she said, "so we have
oceans of time to talk and tell each other secrets. Sit down, jeune
homme, and confess to me." She pointed to a bergère, but it was filled
with Italian embroideries. "Marie, take this rubbish away!" she called,
and presently some chairs were made clear.
"And what must I confess?" asked Hector, when they were seated. "That I
am frantically in love with you, and your coldness is driving me wild?"
"Certainly not!" said the widow, while she rose again and began to
arrange some giant roses in a wonderful basket which looked as if it had
just arrived--her shrewd eye had seen the card, "From Captain
Fitzgerald, with his best bonjour." "Certainly not! We are going to talk
truth, or, to punish you, I shall not ask you to meet her again, and I
shall warn her father of your strictly dishonorable intentions."
"You would not be so cruel!"
"Yes I would. And it is what I ought to do, anyway. She is as innocent
as a woolly lamb, and unsophisticated and guileless, and will probably
be falling in love with you. You take the wind out of the sails of that
husband of hers, you see!"
"Do I?" said Hector, with overdone incredulity.
She looked at him. His long, lithe limbs stretched out, every line
indicative of breeding and strength. She noted the shape of his head,
the perfect grooming, his lazy, insolent grace, his whimsical smile.
Englishmen of this class were certainly the most provokingly beautiful
creatures in the world.