“One of the Archer-Buckingham kidney?”
“Precisely so. Well, I don’t say she is as bad as that precious pair, for, indeed, who could be?—but it’s all the same. She was Ned Bellingham’s wife, and I for one never thought her good ton at all, while we all know what Bellingham was!”
“I seem to be singularly ignorant.”
“Oh well, it was before your day! It doesn’t signify, for he’s been dead these fifteen years: drank himself into his grave, though they called it an inflammation of the lungs—fiddle! Of course he left her with a pile of debts, just as anyone might have expected. I’m sure I don’t know how she contrived to live until she started her wretched gaming-house: I daresay she might have rich relatives. But that’s neither here nor there. You may see her everywhere; she rents her box at the opera, even! but no person of ton will recognize her.”
“How does she fill her house, then? I suppose it is the usual thing?—discreet cards of invitation, handsome supper, any quantity of inferior wine, E.O. and faro-tables set out abovestairs?”
“I was referring to ladies of breeding,” said his aunt coldly. “It is well known, alas, that gentlemen will go anywhere for the sake of gaming!”
He made her a slight, ironical bow. “Also, if my memory serves me, Lady Sarah Repton.”
“I make no excuse for Sally. But duke’s daughter or not, I should never think of describing her as of good ton!”
He looked faintly amused. “I wish you will enlighten me: do you recognize her?”
“Don’t be absurd, I beg of you! Naturally Sally has the entree everywhere. Eliza Bellingham is quite another matter, and you may depend upon it that although Sally may go to her house, she does not set foot in Sally’s! It was Sally who warned me of what was going forward. As you may suppose, I immediately taxed Adrian with it.”