The countess was as good as her word, and called at the Park and the Cedars with her invitation.
Mrs. Mildmay received her with her usual good-breeding, which covered a considerable amount of satisfaction, and accepted her invitation for herself and Violet.
At the Cedars, where she was received with a little more ceremony, she was quite as gracious, and entertained Mrs. Dodson with an account of the various admirable qualities of Ethel. There was no end to be gained by praising Lord Fitz, so the wily mother said nothing about him.
That evening the Lackland skeleton kept very discreetly in its cupboard, and no one, looking at the magnificent rooms and appointments, would ever have guessed that there was a skeleton at all there.
There were the evidences of wealth everywhere, spacious saloons and snug anterooms, splendid furniture in the best taste, magnificent plate, noiseless and well-liveried servants; and over and above all that nameless tone of rank and high breeding.
The Mildmays were late.
Leicester, who had enough confidence and cool determination to perform many acts which would seem impossible to smaller minds, had, in the drawing-room before dinner, determined upon escorting Violet in to dinner, and his intention was so palpable that Lady Lackland bowed to it, but she so maneuvered that Ethel should be seated on his other side, and that Bertie Fairfax should be separated from them by three others.
The dinner was not nearly so successful a one as that which Mr. Dodson had given.
Lady Lackland was particularly gracious, and talked to all in turns. The captain also exerted himself, but Leicester was either silent or devoted himself to the ladies on either side, and the rest of the company followed in the wake of any conversation like timid sheep.
It was not until the ladies had left the room that Bertie roused himself to be amusing.