"Well, you ought to be immensely flattered, young jackanapes! She wouldn't care a straw about some people's failures, would you, Castalia? Would you mind, now, if Jack Price were to sing a song and make an awful mess of it, eh?"
"As to that, it seems to me that Jack Price makes an awful mess of most things he does," replied Castalia.
"Ah, exactly! So one mess more or less don't matter. But in the case of our Admirable Crichton here, it is different."
"I think he is getting awfully spoiled," said Castalia, a little less crossly. And there was absolutely a blush upon her sallow cheek.
"And that's the reason you snub him, is it? You see, Ancram, it's all for your good, if Castalia is a little hard on you!"
Miss Kilfinane rose and left the room, saying that she must dress for her drive.
"I think Castalia is harder on Lady Harriet than on me," said Algernon, when Castalia was gone.
"Ah! H'm! Castalia has lots of good points, but—I daresay you have noticed it—she is given to being a little bit jealous when she cares about people. Now you show a decided liking for Lady Harriet's society, and you crack up her grace, and her elegance, and her taste, and all that. And sometimes I think poor Cassy don't quite like it, don't you know?"
"What on earth can it matter to her?" cried Algernon. He knew that Castalia was no favourite with my lady, and he flattered himself that he was becoming a favourite with her. So he spoke with a little half-contemptuous smile, and a shrug of impatience, when he asked, "What on earth can it matter to her?"
But my lady did not smile. She threw her head back, and looked at Algernon from under her half-closed eyelids.