“They can't take it away; they may check and hinder for a time, that is all. I believe one may serve always and everywhere.”
“You don't mean that I can serve that roomful of enemies in there?”
“That is exactly what I do mean,” he answered, smiling a little.
In the meantime, Lady Caroline was apologizing to Mr. Cuthbert.
“I don't know when I have been so vexed!” she exclaimed. “It is really too bad of Mrs. Fane-Smith. I had no idea that the Burne-Jones angel I promised you was the daughter of that disgraceful man. What a horrible satire, is it not?”
“Pray, don't apologize,” said Mr. Cuthbert. “It was really rather amusing than otherwise, and I fancy the young lady will be in no great hurry to force her way into society again.”
He laughed a soft, malicious, chuckling laugh.
“I should hope not, indeed,” said Lady Caroline, indignantly. “Where has she disappeared to?”
“Need you ask?” said Mr. Cuthbert, smiling. “Our revered member secured her at once, and has been talking to her in the conservatory for at least half an hour, hatching radical plots, I dare say, and vowing vengeance on all aristocrats.”
“Really it is too shocking!” said Lady Caroline. “Mr. Farrant has no sense of what is fitting; it is a trait which I have always noticed in Radicals. He ought, at least to have some respect for his position.”