My lord was out riding in the park.
Only the footman appeared at that early hour, and his countenance was blank whitewash as he stood rigid against the wall for the lady to pass. Madge followed into the morning room; Ines remained in the hall, where he could have the opening speech with his patron, and where he soon had communication with the butler.
This official entered presently to Gower, presenting a loaded forehead. A note addressed to Mrs. Kirby-Levellier at the Countess Livia’s house hard by was handed to him for instant despatch. He signified a deferential wish to speak.
‘You can speak in the presence of the Countess of Fleetwood, Mr. Waytes,’ Gower said.
Waytes checked a bend of his shoulders. He had not a word, and he turned to send the note. He was compelled to think that he saw a well-grown young woman in the Whitechapel Countess.
Gower’s note reached Henrietta on her descent to the breakfast-table. She was, alone, and thrown into a torture of perplexity: for she wanted advice as to the advice to be given to Janey, and Livia was an utterly unprofitable person to consult in the case. She thought of Lady Arpington, not many doors distant. Drinking one hasty cup of tea, she sent for her bonnet, and hastened away to the great lady, whom she found rising from breakfast with the marquis.
Lady Arpington read Gower’s note. She unburdened herself: ‘Oh! So it ‘s no longer a bachelor’s household!’
Henrietta heaved the biggest of sighs. ‘I fear the poor dear may have made matters worse.’
To which Lady Arpington said: ‘Worse or better, my child!’ and shrugged; for the present situation strained to snapping.
She proposed to go forthwith, and give what support she could to the Countess of Fleetwood.