"Which it has," said Vanbrugh. "Mrs. Darche is one of your charities, I suppose—and Harry Brett is one of your dissipations."
"You are too complicated," answered Dolly, really not understanding. "Say it in American, will you not?"
"You love Brett, and you are nice to Mrs. Darche, though you hate her," said Vanbrugh in a tone which left Dolly in doubt as to whether he was in earnest or only chaffing. She paused a moment and stared at him before she answered, and then to his great astonishment spoke with more coldness than he was accustomed to.
"Precisely," she said. "I love Mrs. Darche and I hate Brett because he does not ask her to marry him as he should, now that Darche has been dead so long. I am sorry, Marion," she said, turning to Mrs. Darche, and going up to her rather suddenly, "dear—I really must be going."
"Already?" exclaimed Marion in surprise, "it is not three o'clock?"
"Almost," said Dolly, "and I have lots to do—ever so many people waiting for me at a Committee, and then a visit I must make, and a frock to try on—and then if we are to dine at seven so as to be dressed in time for the tableaux there is no afternoon at all."
"How busy you are! Yet you always look so fresh! How in the world do you do it?"
"A large appetite and a clear conscience—" suggested Brett, who seemed to be more than usually absent-minded.
Dolly glanced at him rather angrily as she shook hands with her friend. "Good-bye, dear Marion. It has been ever so nice! Good-bye."
She left the room. Vanbrugh was annoyed and discomforted by her sudden departure, but he made the best of the situation, and after closing the door behind her, sat down beside Mrs. Willoughby, who was listening to one of Brown's stories.