When she had gone Lady Ver said old people without dyed hair or bridge proclivities were tiresome, and she smoked three cigarettes, one after the other as fast as she could. (Welby is going to the theatre again to-night!)
I said I thought Lady Merrenden was charming. She snapped my head off for the first time, and then there was silence, but presently she began to talk, and fix herself in a most becoming way on the sofa—we were in her own sitting-room, a lovely place, all blue silk and French furniture and attractive things. She said she had a cold and must stay in-doors. She had changed immediately into a tea-gown, but I could not hear any cough.
"Charlie has just wired he comes back to-night," she announced, at length.
"How nice for you!" I sympathized; "you will be able to make his heart beat!"
"As a matter of fact, it is extremely inconvenient, and I want you to be nice to him, and amuse him, and take his attention off me, like a pet, Evangeline," she cooed; and then: "What a lovely afternoon for November! I wish I could go for a walk in the park," she said.
I felt it would be cruel to tease her further, and so announced my intention of taking exercise in that way with the angels.
"Yes, it will do you good, dear child," she said, brightly, "and I will rest here and take care of my cold."
"They have asked me to tea in the nursery," I said, "and I have accepted."
"Jewel of a snake-girl!" she laughed—she is not thick.
"Do you know the Torquilstone history?" she said, just as I was going out of the door.