All the men rise as she enters, except Rylton, who is reading a letter of such deep importance, evidently, that he seems hardly to note his wife's entrance. Tita beckons to them all to resume their seats.
"I'm dreadfully sorry—dreadfully," says she, in a quick little way.
"I had no idea it was so late. So good of you," turning to Mrs.
Bethune, who is sitting at the head of the table, "to take my place!
You see," looking once again round her, "when I started I did not
mean to go so far."
"Ah! that is what so often happens," says Mrs. Bethune, with a queer little glance from under her lids.
There is something so insolent both in her meaning and her voice, that Margaret's face flushes, and she makes a slight movement as if to rise; but Colonel Neilson, who is next her, by a slight gesture restrains her. She looks at Maurice, however, as if wondering why he does not interfere—does not say something; but Maurice seems more than ever buried in his letter. Indeed, beyond one brief glance at his wife, he has taken no notice of her.
Margaret's eyes go back to Tita. Everyone is offering her a seat here or there, and she is shaking her head in refusal. Evidently Mrs. Bethune's remark has gone by her, like the wind unheard; it had not been understood.
"Come and sit here, and have a hot cup of coffee," says Captain
Marryatt.
"No, thank you. I couldn't really. See how muddy I am," glancing down at her skirt. "It must have rained a great deal last night. Tom and I ran a race, and this is the result. I must go upstairs and change my things."
"Certainly, a change would be desirable in many ways," says old Miss Gower, in her most conscious tone, on which her nephew, who is helping himself to cold pie on the sideboard, turns and looks at her as if he would like to rend her.
"Yes, run away, Tita; I'll be up with you in a moment," says
Margaret gently, fondly. "I am afraid you must feel very damp."
"I feel very uncomfortable, any way," says Tita, though without arrière pensée. Mrs. Chichester, dropping her handkerchief, gets her laugh over before she picks it up again. Tita moves towards the door, and then looks back. "Maurice," says she, with a courage born of defiance, "will you send me up some breakfast to my room?"