“Oh, you are thinking of those dreadful Scortons, I daresay! I own, if Camille were an Englishman it might not do, but consider!—he is here only upon a visit, and it is not to be supposed that Mrs. Broughty or her sister will for ever be journeying into France! Indeed, I should be astonished if they went there at all! To Olivia herself there can be not the least objection!”
“Got a notion Mrs. Broughty won’t like it,” said Freddy.
She stared at him. “Dut why should she not? Desides, I have learnt that Camille was received by her when he drove Olivia to Hans Crescent that day, and nothing could have exceeded her affability!”
Freddy looked vaguely distressed, and rubbed his nose harder than ever. “But, Freddy—!”
In Freddy’s pocket there nestled a brief note from Lord Legerwood, informing him that he could discover no noble French family bearing the patronymic of Evron. “Of ‘my uncle the Marquis,’ “ wrote Lord Legerwood, “there is no discoverable trace. One feels that the creation of this peer was a mistake. One is further tempted to hazard the conjecture that your Chevalier may well prove to be a chevalier d’industrie. ...”
Freddy looked at Miss Charing, whose innocent eyes were fixed enquiringly upon his face, and coloured. “French, y’know!” he said. “Been at war with the Frogs so long—!”
Miss Charing was satisfied, and laughed away such doubts. Freddy, foreseeing that Mrs. Broughty, as well as himself, might be inspired to make certain enquiries, perceived shoals ahead, and looked unhappier than ever. His sister would have been glad had she been able to persuade him to remonstrate with his betrothed on her friendship with Olivia; for although Mrs. Broughty, content to have insinuated her daughter into the genteel stronghold of the Buckhaven mansion, did not herself attempt to gain the entree there, Meg lived in constant dread that she would one day do so. She told Freddy that she feared to be dragged into the Scorton’set: if Mrs. Broughty presented herself in Berkeley Square she would not know how to refuse her admittance. Freddy replied, in a practical spirit, that such knowledge was unnecessary. “Only have to tell Skelton you ain’t at home: he’ll do the rest. Dash it, that’s what butlers are for!”
“Oh, well, if you don’t care for me,” said Meg crossly, “I wonder you should not care for Kitty’s getting herself into d scrape, as she very likely will!”
“Don’t see why she should,” responded Freddy obstinately. Meg was in low spirits, suffering from the little malaises of pregnant women, which made her say with a fretfulness alien to her character: “How can you be so stupid? That sort of thing always leads to trouble! It is all kindness, and I am sure I am quite as sorry for Miss Broughty as anyone, but one cannot make a friend of everybody in distressing circumstances! Only, Kitty has been about the world so little she does not understand, and you do not make the least push to set her right!”
“Yes, I do!” said Freddy, stung by this unjust remark. “If it hadn’t been for me, she’d have been going all over town in that devilish hat you told her was all the crack!”