It proved the most adventurous walk he had ever taken in his life. Everybody he knew seemed to be lying in wait for him. In Portland Place he met Miss McQuinch, who, with the letter fresh in her pocket, looked at him indignantly, and cut him. At the Laugham Hotel he passed a member of his club, who seemed surprised, but nodded coolly. In Regent Street he saw Lady Carbury’s carriage waiting before a shop. He hurried past the door, for he had lost courage at his encounter with Elinor. There were, however, two doors; and as he passed the second, the Countess, Lady Constance, and Marmaduke came out just before him.
“Where the devil is the carriage?” said Marmaduke, loudly.
“Hush! Everybody can hear you,” said Lady Constance.
“What do I care whether—Hal-lo! Douglas! How are you?”
Marmaduke proffered his hand. Lady Carbury plucked her daughter by the sleeve and hurried to her carriage, after returning Douglas’s stern look with the slightest possible bow. Constance imitated her mother. Douglas haughtily raised his hat.
“How obstinate Marmaduke is!” said the Countess, when she had bidden the coachman drive away at once. “He is going to walk down Regent Street with that man.”
“But you didnt cut him, mamma.”
“I never dreamed of his coming back so soon; and, of course, I cannot tell whether he will be cut or not. We must wait and see what other people will do. If we meet him again we had better not see him.”
“Look here, old fellow,” said Marmaduke, as he walked away with Douglas. “Youve come back too soon. It wont do. Take my advice and go away again until matters have blown over. Hang it, it’s too flagrant! You have not been away two months.”
“I believe you are going to be married,” said Douglas. “Allow me to congratulate you.”