“You had better leave at once, Captain Glen,” said Lord Henry haughtily. “There must be no scandal here. You have insulted—”
“Insulted!” panted Elbraham; “by Gad, sir—”
“Mr Elbraham, for your own and your lady’s sake be silent and calm yourself, or the guests will learn what has occurred. If you demand satisfaction afterwards, sir, you can do so, though duels are out of fashion.”
“Satisfaction!” cried Elbraham. “By Gad I’ll have heavy damages—heavy damages!” he reiterated, with the foggy notion still in his brain that this was a case in which he could proceed against Glen in the Divorce Court.
“We will discuss that afterwards, sir,” said Lord Henry coldly. “Mrs Elbraham, there are some of your guests approaching. Marie, my child, lead your sister into the next room; she has been a little faint. Elbraham, recollect yourself.”
“All right, my lord; I’m calm enough. But let this blackguard go at once.”
Glen started, and he was turning furiously upon the financier, when he saw Marie slowly approaching her sister with a look almost of loathing in her countenance, and he took a couple of steps towards her.
“Marie, for heaven’s sake hear me!” he whispered; but even as he spoke he saw Clotilde turn and glare at him with so fierce a look that he was again silenced.
Then Lord Henry threw open the door, the strains of music and the brilliant light flashed into the conservatory, and Clotilde seemed to recover herself, and laid her hand upon her husband’s arm.
“Take me away,” she said hoarsely; but, seeing that Marie did not move, she restrained her lord, whose face was just turning back from purple to red, and seemed to be waiting for her sister to leave.