Once or twice she consulted her watch: but as she professed to have no hunger, Beauchamp’s entreaty to her to stay prevailed, and the subtle form of compliment to his knightly manliness in her remaining with him, gave him a new sense of pleasure that hung round her companionable conversation, deepening the meaning of the words, or sometimes contrasting the sweet surface commonplace with the undercurrent of strangeness in their hearts, and the reality of a tragic position. Her musical volubility flowed to entrance and divert him, as it did.
Suddenly Beauchamp glanced upward.
Renée turned from a startled contemplation of his frown, and beheld Mrs. Rosamund Culling in the room.
CHAPTER XLI.
A LAME VICTORY
The intruder was not a person that had power to divide them; yet she came between their hearts with a touch of steel.
“I am here in obedience to your commands in your telegram of this evening,” Rosamund replied to Beauchamp’s hard stare at her; she courteously spoke French, and acquitted herself demurely of a bow to the lady present.
Renée withdrew her serious eyes from Beauchamp. She rose and acknowledged the bow.
“It is my first visit to England, madame!”
“I could have desired, Madame la marquise, more agreeable weather for you.”
“My friends in England will dispel the bad weather for me, madame”; Renée smiled softly: “I have been studying my French-English phrase-book, that I may learn how dialogues are conducted in your country to lead to certain ceremonies when old friends meet, and without my book I am at fault. I am longing to be embraced by you... if it will not be offending your rules?”