"She was educated in England," Lady Blennington told him. "Afterwards, her brother took her to South America. She had some small fortune, I believe, but when she came back they were penniless. They were really living as small market gardeners when Mr. Weatherley found them."
"You don't like her," he remarked. "I wonder why?"
Lady Blennington shook her head.
"One never knows," she replied. "I admire her, if that is anything."
"But you do not like her," he persisted.
She shrugged her shoulders slightly.
"I am afraid it is true," she agreed.
"You admit that and yet you are willing to be her guest?"
She smiled at him approvingly.
"If there is one masculine quality which I do appreciate," she said, "it is directness. I come because I love bridge and because I love my fellow-creatures and because my own friends are none too numerous. With the exception of those worthy friends of our host and his wife who are seated upon your right—Mr. and Mrs. Horsman, I believe they are called—we are all of the same ilk. Mr. Starling no one knows anything about; Count Sabatini's record is something awful."