When the Duke of Andover dined next day at Grosvenor Square, he contrived, by subtle means, to make his sister feel inexplicably ill at ease. He let fall pleasant little remarks concerning her friendship with Captain Lovelace, in which she read disapproval and a sinister warning. She was afraid of him, as she was not of her husband, and she knew that if he ever guessed at the depths of her affection for the old flame, he would take very effective measures towards stopping her intercourse with him. It was, then, entirely owing to his return that she told Lovelace that he must not so palpably adore her. Neither must he visit her so frequently. They were both in her boudoir at the time, one morning, and no doubt Lavinia looked very lovely and very tempting in her wrapper, with her golden curls free from powder and loosely dressed beneath her escalloped lace ruffle. At all events, Lovelace abandoned his daintily bantering pose and seized her in his arms, nearly smothering her with fierce, passionate caresses.
Her ladyship struggled, gave a faint shriek, and started to cry. As his kisses seemed to aggravate her tears, he picked her up, and carrying her to a chair, lowered her gently into it. Then, having first dusted the floor with his handkerchief, he knelt down beside her and possessed himself of both her hands.
"Lavinia! Goddess! I adore you!"
Bethinking herself that tears were ruinous to her complexion, Lady Lavinia pulled her hands away and dabbed at her eyes.
"Oh, Harold!" she reproached him.
"I have offended you! Wretch that I am-"
"Oh, no, no!" Lady Lavinia gave him her hand again. "But 'twas wicked of you, Harry! You must never, never do it again!"
His arm crept round her waist.
"But I love you, sweetheart!"
"Oh! Oh! Think of Dicky!"
He released her at that, and sprang to his feet.
"Why should I think of him? 'Tis of you and myself I think! Only a week ago you vowed he was unkind-"
"You are monstrous wicked to remind me of that! We were both cross-and then we were both sorry. I am very fond of poor Dicky."
"Fond of him! Ay, so you may be, but you do not love him! Not as a woman loves a man-do you?"
"Harold!"
"Of course you do not! You used to love me-no, do not shake your head, 'tis true! You would have married me had it not been for Tracy."
"Oh, Harry! How can you say so? What had he to do with it?"
"What, indeed! Whose fault was it that I was time after time refused admittance at Andover? Whose fault was it that you were induced to marry Carstares?"