Augusta gave a laugh. "I had rather have him than George, at all events. What are you taking there?"
"Only my laudanum drops," replied Barbara, tossing off the mixture.
"Well, I take them myself, but I have the excuse of nervous headaches. You never had such a thing in your life. If you would be less restless -"
"Well, I won't, I can't! This is nothing: it helps me to sleep. Who was the demure lass dancing with Harry? She came with Lady Worth, I think."
"Oh, that chit! She's of no account; I can't conceive what should possess Lady Worth to take her under her wing. There is an uncle, or some such thing. A very vulgar person, connected with Trade. Of course, if Harry is to lose his head in that direction it will be only what one might have expected, but I must say I think we might be spared that at least. I can tell you this, if vou and your brothers create any odious scandals, Vidal will insist on returning to England. He is of two minds now."
"Why? Is he afraid of me, or only of Boney?"
"Both, I daresay. I have no notion of staying here if Bonaparte does march on Brussels, as they all say he will. And if I go you must also."
Barbara shed her sea-green wrap and got into bed. The light of the candles beside her had the effect of making her eyes and hair glow vividly. "Don't think it! I shall stay. A war will be exciting. I like that!"
"You can scarcely remain alone in Brussels!"
Barbara snuggled down among a superfluity of pillows. "Who lives will see!"