"Nay! from what I hear," he said mysteriously, "milor Eglinton had quite sufficient provocation for his jealousy, and like an Englishman he availed himself of the privileges which the customs of his own country grant him, and he frankly beat his wife."
Every one rallied round him, for he seemed to have fuller details than any one else, and Madame de la Beaume whispered eagerly:
"You mean M. de Stainville. . . ."
"Hush—sh—sh," interrupted the old Duchess quickly, "here comes miladi."
The Dowager Marchioness of Eglinton, "miladi," as she was always called, was far too shrewd and too well versed in the manners and customs of her friends not to be fully aware of the gossip that was going on all round the room. Very irate at having been kept in ignorance of the facts which had caused her son's sudden decision, and Lydie's strange attitude, she was nevertheless determined that, whatever scandal was being bruited abroad, it should prove primarily to the detriment of her daughter-in-law's reputation.
Therefore, whenever, to-night, she noted groups congregated in corners, and conversations being obviously carried on in whispers, she boldly approached and joined in the gossip, depositing a poisoned shaft here and there with great cleverness, all the more easily as it was generally supposed that she knew a great deal more than she cared to say.
"Nay! I beg of you, Mesdames and Messieurs," she now said quite cheerfully, "do not let me interrupt your conversation. Alas! do I not know its subject? . . . My poor son cannot be to blame in the unfortunate affair. Lydie, though she may be wholly innocent in the matter, is singularly obstinate."
"Then you really think that?——" queried Madame de la Beaume eagerly, and then paused, half afraid that she had said too much.
"Alas! what can I say?" rejoined miladi with a sigh. "I was brought up in the days when we women were taught obedience to our husband's wishes."
"Madame Lydie was not like to have learnt the first phrase of that wholesome lesson," quoth M. de Louvois with a smile.