"Who's going?"
"Oh, the usual crowd,—my daughters, of course, a friend of theirs, a young Jewess, and perhaps the Fearwell children. The men of the party and my sister Bella will be lodged at Sir Joseph's place, Brineweald Park."
"It sounds engaging enough," said St. Maur.
"Oh, most!" sighed Mrs. Delarayne. "Oh, you can't think what a happy mother I'd be if only I had no children!"
Both men laughed, and Mrs. Delarayne who, ever since her arrival, had been casting unmistakable glances at St. Maur, at last succeeded in silently conveying her meaning to him.
"Well, I'm afraid I must be going downstairs," he said, "I've letters to write."
She extended a hand with alacrity. "Oh, it looks as if I were driving you away," she said.
St. Maur protested feebly against this truthful interpretation of his proposed retreat, and withdrew.
Lord Henry took a seat opposite to his visitor, who was obviously as shy as a schoolgirl in his presence, and surveyed her covertly.
"Have you come to tell me that you have abandoned that absurd Inner Light?" he demanded playfully.