Davenant did not know it, but he was perfectly well aware of Lady Fanny’s ambition. Whatever might be the imperfections of Vidal’s character, he was one of the biggest prizes on the matrimonial market, and for years her ladyship had cherished hopes which she fondly believed to be secret.
John seemed disposed to argue the matter. “For my part I do not believe that Vidal cares a fig for Juliana,” he said. “And as for her, I very much fear this Frederick Comyn has taken her fancy to an alarming degree.”
“How can you be so teasing, John?” Fanny demanded petulantly. “You know very well she is nothing but a child, and I am sure no thought of — of marriage, or love, or any such folly has entered her head. And if it had, it is no great matter, and when she has been in Paris a week, she will have forgotten the young man’s very existence.”
“Paris?” said Hugh, foreseeing that John was going to try and convince his mother for her own good. “Is Juliana going to Paris?”
“Why yes, Hugh. Have you forgotten that my dear mamma was a Frenchwoman? I am sure it is no matter for wonder that the child should visit her French relatives. They are quite wild to know her, so John is to take her next week. I don’t doubt they will make so much rout with her she will hardly wish to come home again.”
“But I do not feel at all hopeful that it win answer the purpose,” said John heavily.
“Pray, John, do not be so provoking!” implored Lady Fanny, somewhat tartly. “You make it sound as though I were one of those odious scheming females whom I detest.”
Hugh thought it time to withdraw, and tactfully did so, leaving mother and son to argue in comfort.
Meanwhile, Miss Juliana Marling, a charming blonde dressed in blue lustring with spangled shoes, and her curls arranged a la Gorgonne, had dragged her cousin into one of the adjoining saloons. “You are the very person I wished to see!” she informed him.
The Marquis said with conspicuous lack of gallantry: “If you want me to do something for you, Juliana, I warn you I never do anything for anybody.”