Lady Selton nods her reply. She is panting, and fanning herself audibly. Without the slightest ear for music, she has been plunging round the room with her husband, who is still so far infatuated as to half believe she can dance. She is an extremely pretty woman, so one can condone his idiocy.
At this moment Hescott appears. He goes straight to the bride. He has been sent, indeed, by Lady Warbeck.
"Will you give me the pleasure of this dance, Lady Selton?" asks he.
"It? What is it?" nervously.
"A waltz."
He is smiling at her. She has a charming figure. Of course she can dance. Tom Hescott would not have asked the loveliest woman in the land to waltz with him, if he knew her to be a bad dancer.
"I can't waltz at all," says the bride. But her husband comes to the rescue.
"Oh, nonsense!" says he, smilingly. "Hescott dances so well that he will teach you. Go, go with him." He gives her a playful little push towards Hescott, who is looking very blank. "You'll get into it in no time."
"Get into it."
The disgust that is writ so large on Hescott's face, as he leads her away, makes Mrs. Chichester shake with laughter.