Kemsale Hall, towards which carriages from every country house in South Meadshire within driving distance, and motor-cars from far beyond, were converging, was a very fine place, and the ball which Lord Meadshire gave that evening was a very fine ball. Amongst the numerous guests, whose names were all chronicled in the Bathgate Herald and South Meadshire Advertiser, were Lady George Dubec and Miss Dexter.
Virginia had gone home from the Hunt Ball vowing that nothing would induce her to accept the invitation which Lady Kemsale had given her so patronisingly when it should be confirmed by the promised card, and Miss Dexter had backed her up in her own dry way, while professing to combat her resolution.
"I don't know what you can be thinking of, Virginia," she said. "Refuse an invitation to a house like Kemsale—the house of a Marquis, a Lord-Lieutenant! Why, lots of women would commit hari-kari to-morrow—or at least the day after the ball—if they could get an invitation."
"Well, I'm not one of them," said Virginia. "To think that I would go anywhere on sufferance! Lord Meadshire's an old darling, but as for his daughter-in-law, I should very much like to tell her what I think of her."
The opportunity of doing so occurred no later than the following afternoon, when Lady Kemsale came to Blaythorn Rectory to call, but Virginia did not take it.
Lady Kemsale's manners were naturally stiff, but she did her best to soften them when she was shown into Virginia's drawing-room. "I thought I would come over before Monday," she said, with a smile, "so as to put everything on the most approved basis of etiquette. We don't often get new people in this part of the world, and when we do we must make haste to show that we appreciate them."
This was handsome enough, and it rather took Virginia's breath away. When Lady Kemsale had been announced she had jumped to the conclusion that Lord Meadshire had sent her, which was true; but what was also true was that she had been quite pleased to come, and to have the opportunity of making amends for her frigidity at the Hunt Ball, which had been caused by the Squire's tale and thawed again by her own observations. When she drove away half an hour later Virginia said with a rare lapse into the American tongue, "Why, she's a perfectly lovely woman, after all, Toby. Now you can't say that I was wrong to say I'd go, after the way she behaved."
"Just a little soft-sawder, and you fall at her feet," said Miss Dexter. But she was pleased, all the same, that Virginia should be going to Kemsale, and that one more of Dick's people should have acknowledged her charm and her worth. She was pleased also to be going herself, for she had a little scheme of her own, which she had not imparted to her friend.
She had, in fact, made up her mind to speak to Mrs. Clinton, if she could find an excuse to do so, unobserved by the Squire. She had watched her in the Bathgate Assembly Room, and she had seen her in her turn watching Virginia with eyes whose meaning, whatever it was, was not one of hostility. "Now there's a woman with sense," she had said to herself. "She wouldn't be tiresome. I wonder how much she is under the influence of her old bear of a husband?"
This was what she was going to find out, if she could, and she waited her opportunity, refusing invitations to dance, and wandering about the great string of rooms at Kemsale, stalking her prey, with a whole-hearted indifference as to what might be thought of a single lady so apparently friendless and partnerless.