"It has to be said sooner or later," whispered Mona, "and I want Lord Prelice to hear."
"Oh!" A new thought seemed to strike Lady Sophia. She glanced from her hostess to her nephew, and then pursed up her lips, guessing in a flash what was coming. "You had better come with me, Prelice," she repeated, raising her voice, and at the sound of it Mona shrank away.
But Prelice looked dogged, and declined to come. "I must stop and support Miss Chent," he said.
"Mr. Shepworth can do that," cried Captain Jadby insolently.
"He can," said the barrister, taking a step forward, "and he can support the cause of"—with emphasis—"any lady."
The advocate of the Stone Age, standing at the open door, raised her lorgnette, and surveyed the group. "Most interesting," she said, with cool impertinence; "quite a comedy. Let us hope that it will not merge into a tragedy." And, biting her lip, she departed, with a glare at her obstinate nephew.
Guessing that Lady Sophia was offended, and pretty certain of the reason, Mona did not dare to follow.
The motor car of Lady Sophia was heard whirring down the avenue in the hot sunshine, and only when the sound died away did Miss Chent return to the three men. "What more have you to say, Captain Jadby?" she asked politely.
"It seems to me that there is little need of an explanation," he answered, with another shrug, and compressing his lips.
"None at all that I can see," rejoined Shepworth in a cool voice. "I think Captain Jadby had better go."