"But Lady Ipsen wasn't," said Eva coolly; "don't trouble to apologise, Lord Saltars, I should not have gone in any case."
"No, by Jove, I can see that. You're as proud as a peacock--just like the portrait of Lady Barbara Delham who lived in Queen Anne's reign. And she was a Tartar."
Eva began to smile. Saltars was amusing. She saw that he was simply a thoughtless man, who lived for himself alone. He apparently wished to be friendly, so as Eva had no real grudge against him, she unbent.
"I don't think we need quarrel," she said.
"No, by Jove. But I shan't. Any quarrelling that is to be done must be on your side. There's enough in our family as it is. You should hear how my mother and the dowager Lady Ipsen fight: but then the dowager is a dreadful old cat," he finished candidly.
"I have never seen her."
"You wouldn't forget her if you did. She's beaked like a parrot, and talks like one. She and I don't hit it off. She's one of what they call the old school, whatever that means, and she thinks I'm a low person--like a groom. What do you think?"
Lord Saltars was not unlike a groom in some ways, but his good nature and candour amused Eva. "I am not a person to judge," she said, smiling.
"By Jove, you might have been, though," said he, fixing his small grey eyes on her; "supposing you became Lady Saltars?"
"There's not the slightest chance of that," said Eva coldly.