"A living illustration of my text," I say, bending my head in my husband's direction.
"Where? Oh! there." He stares at Lady Blanche reflectively for a minute or so, and then says, "She is certainly good-looking."
"'Good-looking!' How very faint! Surely she is handsome. Are you one of those who consider it impolitic to admire one woman to another?"
"As a rule I believe it to be a mistake," replies he, coolly; "but in this case I had no thought of policy. I am never quite sure that I do think her ladyship handsome. That she is generally thought so I admit. Marmaduke and she were always good friends."
"So I should say."
"At one time we imagined a tendresse there, and dreamed of a marriage, but, you see, 'Duke was bent on doing more wisely."
"Thanks. That is a pretty put. Was the tendresse you speak of on her side or his?"
"A mutual business, I fancy, if it existed at all. But, as we made a mistake in the principal part of it, we probably did so in all. Besides"lightly"I ought not to tell you all this Mrs. Carrington. Tales out of school are malicious. Such mere suppositions as they are too."
"Why surely I may congratulate myself on having gained a victory over so much beauty? It would be a pity to deny me this little gratification."
Nevertheless, at heart, I am sorely vexed, and, through pique and wounded feeling, make myself more than agreeable to Sir Mark for the evening. Not once does 'Duke come near me; nor does he even appear to notice my wilful flirtation.