"She has a card, it would seem."
"Then she has stolen it, or it is a forgery."
"Well, well," said Clementina, who knew her father well enough to guess that he had been cajoled into giving the invitation, a bounty which had cost him nothing. "Settle the matter at once. She is in the drawing-room. You must go and explain to her that she must have the goodness to take herself off. Say what you choose, but at once. Before any one discovers her—above all mamma."
"No, my child, no. I know myself too well. I could not control my indignation. We must do nothing to attract attention. Go yourself—go, and get rid of her at once."
This was enough for Clementina. Without another word she swiftly returned to the drawing-room, her face pale and set, her lips quivering. In a moment she discovered the foe.
Certainly she was a handsome creature, magnificently dressed as Mary, Queen of Scots, and her beauty was fuel to Clementina's wrath. After wheedling Salabert to give her a card, it had occurred to the demi-mondaine that her appearance at the ball might cause a scandal, but she longed to display herself in the costly costume she had chosen, and taking a respectable-looking old friend as a chaperon, she went very late, just to walk once or twice through the rooms. It was a bitter surprise to find that even the men of her acquaintance, the members of the Savage Club, here turned their backs and walked away.
Her enjoyment, such as it was, was brief. Just as she was moving forward, with a triumphant smile, to make her longed-for progress through the rooms, she found herself face to face with Clementina, who, without the slightest greeting, holding her head very high, laid her hand on her shoulder, saying:
"Have the kindness to listen to me."
Mary Stuart turned pale, hesitated an instant, and then said with resolute arrogance:
"I have nothing to say to you. I came to see the master of the house—the Duke de Requena."