The private inquiry trouble was cooling down, but there was so much excitement and trouble at Portland Place, that Maude’s hair had to go untended on one occasion, and Monsieur Hector and his assistant waited in vain for the lady’s coming. Short as was the distance, Mademoiselle Justine was unable to run round and say that they need not wait.
For Sir Grantley Wilters was to dine in Portland Place that evening, and he arrived in good time.
The baronet was quite bright in spirits and youthful in appearance, having got the better of his late ailment, and Lady Barmouth smiled pensively at him when she was not watching Lord Barmouth, and seeing if he was surreptitiously supplied with wine.
Tom dined at home, and was morosely civil, being puzzled how to act towards his future brother-in-law.
Sir Grantley knew of the trouble between her ladyship and her lord, but religiously avoided all allusion thereto; he, however, found time and opportunity to mention to her ladyship the last scandal that he had heard concerning Melton.
“No?” exclaimed her ladyship, laying her plump hand upon his arm.
“Yas; fact, I assure you,” he said. “I had it from three fellows at the club, and they were present. It was at a place in Jermyn street.”
“How dreadful!” exclaimed her ladyship in a low tone.
“They are retailing scandal about poor old Charley, Maude,” said Tom, leaning over the back of her chair in the drawing-room. “You think he’s quite square, eh?”
“If you mean by that, Tom, that I think him an honourable gentleman; yes, I do,” said Maude quietly.