“Lady Mickleham and I, on the occasion in question—” I began with dignity.
“Pray, spare me,” quote Mrs. Hilary, with much greater dignity.
I took my hat.
“Shall you be at home as usual on Thursday?” I asked.
“I have a great many people coming already,” she remarked.
“I can take a hint,” said I.
“I wish you’d take warning,” said Mrs. Hilary.
“I will take my leave,” said I—and I did, leaving Mrs. Hilary in a tragic attitude in the middle of the room. Never again shall I go out of my way to lull Mrs. Hilary’s suspicions.
A day or two after this very trying interview, Lady Mickleham’s victoria happened to stop opposite where I was seated in the park. I went to pay my respects.
“Do you mean to leave me nothing in the world,” I asked, just by way of introducing the subject of Mrs. Hilary. “One of my best friends has turned me out of her house on your account.”