Mrs. Scattergood began to make tea. “I thought you was out of town, my dear Worth. This is quite a surprise.”
“I have been at Woburn,” he replied, taking the cup and saucer she held out to him, and carrying it to Miss Taverner. “I am fortunate to find you at home.”
Miss Taverner accepted the cup and saucer with a brief word of thanks, and setting it down on the sofa-table at her elbow, continued to ply her needle.
“Yes, indeed you are,” agreed Mrs. Scattergood. “We have been about for ever this last week. You can have no notion! Balls, assemblies, card-parties, and actually. Worth, an invitation to Lady Cork’s! I tell Judith nothing could be better, for all she may think it tedious! No cards, my love—nothing of that sort, but the company of the most select, and the conversation all wit and elegance. I am sure we have to thank that dear, delightful Emily Cowper for it!”
“On the contrary, you have to thank me for it,” said the Earl, sipping his tea.
“My dear Worth, is it really so? Well, and why should I not have guessed it? To think I should forget the terms your poor Mama was upon with Lady Cork! Of course I might have known it was all your doing. It is very prettily done of you; I am excessively pleased with you for thinking of it. Is that why you are here? Did you come to tell us?”
“Not at all,” said the Earl. “I came at the request of Miss Taverner.”
Mrs. Scattergood turned a surprised, inquiring look upon Judith. “You never told me you had invited Worth, my dear?”
“I did request Lord Worth to call here,” said Miss Taverner, carefully choosing another length of embroidery silk. “I did not, however, mention any particular day or hour.”
“True,” said the Earl. “I had had the intention of calling on you this morning, Miss Taverner, but—er—circumstances intervened.”