"I don't know, and I don't care. It's easy enough to see what you are! You'd better go, hadn't you?" suggested Archibald grimly. "This is a private affair. Invitation only."
By this time the startled lady had recovered her poise. "You're making a mistake, young man," she replied quietly, "This happens to be my private affair. I am Mrs. Darcy."
It was his turn to be flabbergasted.
"Her mother?"
"Miss Darcy's step-mother," said Effie May, with some dignity.
She continued to meet his gaze, which did not lower, though he had gone quite pale.
"The joke's on me," he muttered at last. "It's I who'd better go, I guess. Pardon me!"
She inclined her head without speaking.
He still continued to look at her, as if puzzled. "My mistake," he said again. "If your husband wants me at any time, my name is Blair, Mrs. Darcy—Archibald Blair."
"He won't want you," said Effie May. "Good night."