"Oh, but Lord Lynborough asked me to come again and to go wherever I liked—not to keep to the stupid road."
Absolute silence reigned. Violet looked round with a smile which conveyed a general appeal for sympathy; there was, perhaps, special reference to Miss Gilletson as the guardian of propriety, and to the Marchesa as the owner of the disputed path.
"You see, I took Nellie, and the dear always does run away. She ran after a rabbit. I ran after her, of course. The rabbit ran into a hole, and I ran into Lord Lynborough. Helena, he's charming!"
"I'm thoroughly tired of Lord Lynborough," said the Marchesa icily.
"He must have known I was staying with you, I think; but he never so much as mentioned you. He just ignored you—the whole thing, I mean. Wasn't it tactful?"
Tactful it might have been; it did not appear to gratify the Marchesa.
"What a wonderful air there is about a—a grand seigneio!" pursued Violet reflectively. "Such a difference it makes!"
That remark did not gratify any of the gentlemen present; it implied a contrast, although it might not definitely assert one.
"It is such a pity that you've quarreled about that silly path!"
"Oh! oh! Miss Dufaure!"—"I say come, Miss Dufaure!"—"Er—really, Miss Dufaure!"—these three remonstrances may be distributed indifferently among the three men. They felt that there was a risk of treason in the camp.