Léonie had gone over to the window, but she turned quickly. “What do you mean — even Vidal?” she snapped.
“Oh, nothing, my dear!” said her ladyship hastily. “Not but what it would be the most dastardly thing, and I must say I am thankful my son is not of Dominic’s disposition. I vow my heart positively bleeds for you, my love.”
“And mine for you,” said Léonie with awful politeness.
“Pray why?” demanded her ladyship, preparing for battle.
Léonie shrugged. “For a whole day I have been shut up in a coach with the so estimable John. It is enough, mordieu!”
Lady Fanny arose in her wrath. “I vow and declare I never met with such ingratitude!” she said. “I wish I had sent John to Avon, as I promise you I’d half a mind to.”
Léonie softened instantly. “Well, I am sorry, Fanny, but you said worse of my son than I said of yours, and you said it first.”
For a moment it seemed as though her ladyship would stalk from the room, but in the end she relented, and said pacifically that she would not add to the disasters befalling the family by quarrelling with Léonie. She then demanded to be told how Léonie proposed to avert the gathering scandal. Léonie said: “I do not know, but if it is necessary I will get that girl a husband.”
“Get her a husband?” repeated Fanny, bewildered. “Who is he to be?”
“Oh, anyone!” Léonie said impatiently. “I shall think of something, because I must think of something. Perhaps Rupert will be able to help.”