At this neither George nor any one else could help laughing.
“Oh, Nouna, you don’t know what a reputation you’re giving us both!” he said, as soon as he could command his voice. “They’ll say I’m henpecked.”
She looked for a moment rather dismayed, as if not quite measuring the force of the accusation. Then with a sudden turn towards him, her whole face aglow with affection, she said in a low, impulsive voice:
“Does it matter what they say as long as we’re both so happy?”
“No, child, it doesn’t!” cried Lady Millard, carried away by the young wife’s frank simplicity.
But on Lord Florencecourt’s prejudiced mind the little scene was only another display of the most brazen coquetry. He and the ladies left together, and they were not out of the house before George, in a transport of passion, snatched into his arms the wife who was always discovering new charms for him. Presently she said:
“George, that wooden-faced Lord Florencecourt hates me!”
“When you’ve seen Lady Florencecourt, you’ll understand that a taste for the one type of woman is incompatible with a taste for the other.”
“But why then did he make his sister call upon me? For she said it was her brother made her call, and everybody thinks a visit from Lady Crediton a great thing!”
“Well, I suppose it must have been to please me, Nouna,” said her husband.