"Oh, go away!—go away!" she implored. "You tease me and tease me until I cannot bear it, and indeed I do not mean to be shrewish! Please go!"
"I am on the point of doing so, my dear. I trust you will have in a measure recovered when next I see you. Pray bear my respects to Hon—to the Honourable Richard."
She stretched out her hand.
"Come again soon!" she begged. "I shall be better to-morrow! 'Tis only to-day that my head aches till I could shriek with the worry and the pain of it! Come again!"
"Unfortunately I anticipate leaving Bath within a day or two. But nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to comply with your wishes." He kissed her hand punctiliously, and took his leave. At the door he paused, and looked back mockingly. "By the way—her name is—Diana." He bowed again and swept out, as Lavinia buried her face in the cushions and burst into tears.
It was thus that Richard found her, twenty minutes later, and his concern was so great that it in part restored her spirits, and she spent a quiet and, for him, blissful evening, playing at piquet.
In the middle of a game she suddenly flung down her hand and caught at his wrist.
"Dicky, Dicky—I will go home!"
"Go home? What do you mean? Not—"
"Yes, yes—Wyncham! Why not?"