CHAPTER XVI
A CONFLICT
In the hubbub which immediately followed Lord Walterton's tirade, Editha de Chavasse beckoned to the florid woman—who seemed to be her henchwoman—and drew her aside to a distant corner of the room, where there were no tables nigh and where the now subdued hum of the voices, mingling with the sound of music on virginal and stringed instruments, made a murmuring noise which effectually drowned the talk between the two women.
"Have you arranged everything, Mistress Endicott?" asked Editha, speaking in a whisper.
"Everything, mistress," replied the other.
"Endicott understands?"
"Perfectly," said the woman, with perceptible hesitation, "but . . ."
"What ails you, mistress?" asked Editha haughtily, noting the hesitation, and frowning with impatience thereat.
"My husband thinks the game too dangerous."
"I was not aware," retorted Mistress de Chavasse dryly, "that I had desired Master Endicott's opinion on the subject."