“Ah, Denville, bad man,” she said, tapping him with her folded fan. “I feel as if I could not come to your house. My poor dear sister!”
The houses on the Parade seemed to reel before the MC’s eyes.
“But one cannot grieve for ever. I shall come. Have you asked that wicked Rockley?”
Denville bowed.
“And Sir Matthew Bray?”
“All the officers whom duty will allow are coming.”
“That’s well; and now, Denville, you must send an imitation with apologies to Mrs Pontardent.”
“Lady Drelincourt!”
“I can’t help it. She wishes to come, and I have promised that she shall.”
The result was that Mrs Pontardent was invited, and in turn she expressed a wish that her dear friends the Deans, whom Mr Denville had introduced to her, should not be left out.