The marchioness frowned severely.
“Silence! Remember you are on your good behavior. You are not to shock this dear, good person.”
The “dear, good person” interrupted the conversation by his appearance. He advanced to the marchioness, and shook hands with so much real regard that her rings were crushed into the flesh.
“I’m delighted to see your ladyship—delighted! It’s so kind of you to come.” He turned to her companion. “And you, my lord.”
In Tooting it is not the custom for married ladies to drive about paying visits with gentlemen other than their husbands or near relations. The marchioness forced a somewhat unnatural smile as she explained:
“Er—let me—Mr. Despencer, a friend of mine.”
A look of hopeless bewilderment appeared on the alderman’s speaking countenance. Despencer skilfully put in:
“A friend of Mr. Hammond’s as well. The marchioness thought it better for me to come here with her.”
The tension was relieved. Alderman Dobbin seated himself facing his visitors, while the marchioness opened the conversation.
“I have taken the liberty of coming here, Mr. Dobbin, without waiting till you came to my house, because I wanted to have a private chat with you. You know how difficult it is to get five minutes’ conversation with any one in those crushes.”