"I shall be delighted to give it, but surely your father--"
"My father"--Lesbia checked a scornful remark which was on the tip of her tongue--"my father would take no interest in what I wish to tell you."
Charvington bent his brow and looked at her thoughtfully. "You shall come to the library in the morning, and there we can have a chat," he said. "Only one thing I ask you now: your father does not treat you badly?"
"No," faltered the girl, looking down; she could not betray her father, although he had behaved so ill. "My father is--well enough," she ended lamely.
"Humph!" muttered Charvington, with his eyes still on her face. "Well, well, we shall see! Meantime have some more tea," and he walked across the room to have her cup filled.
No more was said for the time being, but Charvington's kind manner made Lesbia more determined than ever to confide in him. She believed that she had at length found a friend who would aid her to withstand the tyranny of her father, and who would assist to put things right with her lover. They were crooked enough now in all conscience. Moreover, in any case, she was forced to show him Canning's letter, so that he might provide against the projected burglary. If she told this much she would have to tell all, for only by making a clean breast of it could she be extricated from the mire into which she had sunk, through no fault of her own. All that evening she longed for the morning, so that she might tell her new friend the many difficulties which were making her miserable.
Not that the evening was dull. On the contrary, as the mansion was filled with lively, well-bred people, it was quite a revelation to Lesbia in the way of enjoyment. Everyone seemed to be happy and untroubled by care, which contrasted strongly with the incessant worry which went on within the four walls of Rose Cottage. These society people--outwardly at all events--seemed as careless gods, happy, merry, and gloriously irresponsible. Later in life Lesbia learned what sadness lurked under this frivolous, laughing exterior, but at this time she was quite deceived, and thought to herself, "How happy are the rich and well-born!"
Lady Charvington's two daughters--not yet old enough to be presented--were very nice girls, although they were decidedly plain-looking. But they appeared to have none of their mother's jealousy regarding Lesbia's beauty, and made much of her. She found herself laughing and talking and entering into their girlish lives, quite as if she had known them for many years. Lord Charvington seemed particularly pleased that this should be so, and presided over the trio like a benevolent wizard. For the most part Lesbia was with the two girls during her visit, in spite of the attentions paid to her by sundry youths smitten by her beauty. Seeing this, Lady Charvington became much more gracious, and inwardly decided that Lesbia Hale knew her place. All the same she was a trifle uneasy at the way in which Charvington hovered round the pretty visitor. Not that she cared over much for her husband, who was older than she was; nevertheless, she did not like to see him paying marked attentions to anyone else.
On the first evening, there was a small dance after a very splendid dinner. Lesbia, in her simple white dress, attracted much notice, but she preferred to talk to Agatha and Lena, Lord Charvington's daughters, and to laugh at their father's mild witticisms. During a lull in the dance there was some singing, and towards the end of the evening an excellent supper. Lesbia retired at midnight, while yet the festivities were in full swing. This was at Lord Charvington's express wish, as he did not approve of youth losing any necessary beauty-sleep. When she laid her head on the pillow and was falling asleep, Lesbia confessed that she had enjoyed herself greatly. If George had only been present the evening would have been perfect.
Next morning, Agatha and Lena woke her early and took her round the grounds. The girls exchanged confidences--chiefly about school life,--ran races on the dewy sward, and entered filled with the joy of life to eat a surprisingly good breakfast. Lady Charvington was rather astounded at Lesbia's appetite. So pretty a girl, she decided, should eat less and talk less. But Lesbia, although a fairy in looks, could not live on fairy food, and enjoyed to the full the excellent meal provided by the very capable chef of her host. "Horrid, greedy, pert girl," thought Lady Charvington, who was all smiles and attention. "I am sure I shan't like her!"--quite a needless thought, as she already heartily disliked her visitor for other reasons than because she was pretty. But these reasons Lesbia did not learn for some months. Then they did not matter, as life had changed by that time for the better.