‘Well, yes. In fact, an aunt of our common friend.’
‘Ah, an aunt of our common friend,’ and I smiled. Mrs Hipgrave struggled nobly, but in the end she smiled also. After a little pause I remarked:
‘I’m going to be married myself, Mrs Hipgrave.’
Mrs Hipgrave grew rather grave again, and she observed:
‘I did hear something about a—a lady, Lord Wheatley.’
‘If you had heard it all, you’d have heard a great deal about her.’
A certain appearance of embarrassment spread over Mrs Hipgrave’s face.
‘We’re old friends, Lord Wheatley,’ she said at last. I bowed in grateful recognition. ‘I’m sure you won’t mind if I speak plainly to you. Now is she the sort of person whom you would be really wise to marry? Remember, your wife will be Lady Wheatley.’
‘I had not forgotten that that would happen,’ I said.