'If I neglected anything, it would be the other, I think.'
He smiled tolerantly and quite believed her. Trix was most butterfly-like to-night; there was no hardness in her laugh, not a hint of grimness in her smile. 'You would never think,' Mrs. Bonfill used to whisper, 'what the poor child has been through.'
Beaufort Chance passed by, casting a scowling glance at them.
'I haven't seen you dancing with Chance—or perhaps you sat out? He's not much of a performer.'
'I gave him a dance, but I forgot.'
'Which dance, Mrs. Trevalla?' Her glance had prompted the question.
'Ours,' said Trix. 'You came so late—I had none left.'
'I very seldom dance, but you tempted me.' He was not underrating his compliment. For a moment Trix was sorely inclined to snub him; but policy forbade. When he left her, to seek Lady Blixworth, she felt rather relieved.
Beaufort Chance had watched his opportunity, and came by again with an accidental air. She called to him and was all graciousness and apologies; she had every wish to keep the second string in working order. Beaufort had not sat there ten minutes before he was in his haste accusing Lady Blixworth of false insinuations—unless, indeed, Trix were an innocent instrument in Mrs. Bonfill's hands. Trix was looking the part very well.
'I wish you'd do me a great kindness,' he said presently. 'Come to dinner some day.'