At last the play was ended! The curtain descended on the bowing Archer, and the house stamped and clapped its appreciation. The curtain rose again—what! not finished yet? Ah, no! it was but Garrick leading Mrs. Clive forward. Would they never have done?
Mrs. Fleming was standing; she supposed they were going, and got up. Someone put her cloak about her shoulders; Richard—for the last time. Mr. Holt escorted her to her coach, and put her and her cousin into it. He and Mr. Fleming had their chairs; so only Richard and Tracy went with the ladies. The Flemings were staying with friends in Brook Street, just off Grosvenor Square, so that when they had put Harriet down, only a few more yards remained to be covered.
Lavinia wondered dully why Tracy had elected to come with them. What did he want? Was he going to warn Dick of her intended flight? He little knew the true state of affairs!
At the foot of the staircase at Wyncham House she turned to say good-night.
She merely nodded to Tracy, but to Dick she extended her hand. He took it in his, kissing it, and she noticed how cold were his fingers, how burning hot his lips. Then he released her, and she went slowly up the stairs to her room.
His Grace watched her through his eyeglass. When she was out of sight he turned and surveyed Richard critically.
"If that is the way you kiss a woman, Lavinia has my sympathies," he remarked.
Richard's lips tightened. He picked up a stand of lighted candles and ushered his Grace into the drawing-room.
"I presume you did not come to tell me that?" he asked.
"Your presumption is correct, Richard. I have come to open your eyes."