So Peregrine had sailed forth to call for Barbara, and had spent an entertaining evening with her in one of the cafes beyond the ramparts.
Had Colonel Audley been able to see them he must have acquitted Barbara of any desire to flirt, but he could scarcely have been pleased with the result of her sisterly behaviour. When she chose to treat a man en camarade, she was at her most enchanting. She had not the smallest intention of captivating Peregrine, but her candid way of looking at him, her rippling laugh, her boyish speech, and her sense of fun charmed him irresistibly. He was not in love with her, but he had never in his life encountered so dazzling a creature.
Barbara said frankly at the outset: "This is capital! I shall pretend you are my young brother. I, if you please, am your elder sister - though I fear I am not quite like Lady Worth."
Peregrine did not think that she was in the least like Judith, except in being able to talk sensibly of horses. He soon found himself describing his yacht to her: discovered that she also was fond of sailing; and from that moment became her slave. Sailing, riding, cocking. prizefighting: they talked of them all. No squeamish nonsense about Lady Bab! Why, it was like talking to man, only much more exciting.
It was all quite innocent, but as ill-luck would have is they were seen by some people who were driving back to Brussels from Nivelles, and in less time than might have been thought possible the news that Sir Peregrine was Bab's latest victim was not only current but had reached Harriet's ears.
She was thunderstruck, and, in her nervous condition, easily convinced that the woman whom she detested ever since the fatal expedition to Hougoumont was stealing from her Peregrine's affections. No doubt he was tired of such a dull, ailing wife: she did not blame him - or, at any rate, not very much but no words were bad enough to describe Barbara's wicked malice.
She carried the story to Judith, casting herself upon her bosom and sobbing out her woes. Judith heard her with incredulity. She insisted upon her calming herself, obliged her to drink a glass of wine, and to sit down on the sofa, and said with brisk good sense: "I don't believe a word of it! What has Perry to say for himself?"
Oh, Harriet might be a fool, but she was not such a fool as to attack Perry with his infidelity!
"Infidelity!" said Judith. "Stuff and nonsense! What a piece of work about nothing! I daresay he may admire Barbara who does not? But as for the rest of it why, Harriet, it is the merest irritation of nerves! If you take my advice you'll think no more of it!"
"How can you be so heartless?" wept Harriet. "I might have guessed this would happen! I mistrusted her from the start. Perry is tired of me, and she has stolen him from me."