"Oh, he will not mind for long," she said philosophically. "He loves so easily, you see! But you, Dick-why did you go so often-so very often to see Mrs. Fanshawe?"
His face grew solemn.
"She knew-Jack-in Vienna- I-I wanted to hear all she could tell me of him-I could think of nothing else."
"Oh, Dicky! How-how wickedly foolish I have been! And 'twas that that made you so cold-and I thought-oh, dear!"
He drew her head down on to his shoulder again.
"My poor love! Why, 'tis the kindest lady imaginable, but as to loving her-!" He kissed her hand lingeringly. "I love-and have always loved-a far different being: a naughty, wilful, captivating little person, who-"
Lady Lavinia clasped her arms about his neck.
"You make me feel so very, very dreadful! I have indeed been naughty-I-"
"And you'll be so many times again," he told her, laughing.
"No, no! I-will-try to be good!"
"I do not want you good!" Richard assured her. "I want you to be your own dear self!" . . . Lady Lavinia disengaged herself with a contented little sigh, and stood up.
"How charming it is to be happy again, to be sure!" she remarked naïvely. "To think that only half an hour ago I was wishing to be dead!" She went over to the glass and straightened her hair.
Richard looked at her rather anxiously.
"Lavinia-you-you quite understand, I am going to tell everyone the truth-next Friday?" he asked.
"Yes, I do, of course-'tis dreadfully disagreeable of you, but I suppose you will do it. I do hope people will not refuse to recognise us, though."
"No one would ever refuse to recognise you, dearest."
She brightened.
"Do you really think so? Well, perhaps after all, 'twill not be so very horrid. And-and you will like to have Jack again, won't you?
Yes-I knew you would. Oh, 'twill all be quite comfortable after a little while, I make no doubt!"
* * * * * His Grace of Andover arose betimes, and early sallied forth into the street. He called a chair, and drove to an address in the Strand, where lodged a certain Colonel Shepherd. Half-an-hour did he spend with the Colonel, and when he at length emerged from the house the curl of his lip betokened satisfaction. He did not at once hail a chair, but walked along in the direction of St. James's, entering the park in company with one Dare, who, seven years before, had given a certain memorable card-party.
Dare was pleasantly intrigued over Richard's latest oddity.
"Have you an idea what 'tis about, Belmanoir?" he inquired. "Has he written you to come as well?"