"Nothing of the sort!" said Sir Arthur, who had been betrayed into divulging Lola's identity through his inability to bring himself to utter her confounded outlandish name.
Mrs. Chudleigh looked sharply from him to Geoffrey, scenting discord. "Well, I am sure this is a great surprise," she declared. "Quite unexpected! I am most anxious to meet her, though I feel quite sorry for her having to enter a roomful of people all staring at her."
The door was flung open; there was just a moment's pause, sufficient to allow every one time to turn their heads, and Miss de Silva swam into the room.
It was easy to see what had made her late. Her raven locks, which she had worn earlier in the day in ringlets low on her neck, had all been curled and frizzed into a stiff mass up the back of her head to form a sort of halo for her face. She was made up in the Parisian style — a dead white with vivid red lips and heavily blacked eyelashes. She wore a frock of black velvet rising to a point at the base of her throat and held there by a diamond collar. It fitted her like a glove; it was utterly plain, with a long train lined with scarlet, and no back at all until her trim waist was reached. A quantity of diamond (or, as Mrs. Chudleigh strongly suspected, paste) bracelets glittered up each arm, and in one hand she carried a fan of cock's feathers dyed scarlet. She was arresting, magnificent, and quite incongruous, and her appearance rendered her host speechless.
"I am late, that is certain," she announced, "but I shall not be blamed, because it was the fault of Geoffrey, who was so stupid to bring me in a little car that would not take my luggage. And I do not drink cocktails with gin: they are to me quite abominable. So there is not the need to wait any longer for dinner, and I do not disarrange my one at all."
The Vicar bent towards Dinah's ear, and, with an intonation of incredulity, inquired in the peculiarly penetrating whisper of all deaf persons: "I beg your pardon. Did I understand you to say that it was Geoffrey's fiancée?"
"Yes," said Dinah, carefully averting her gaze from Mrs. Chudleigh's stiffening form. "Er — yes." Then she unwisely allowed herself to look at Sir Arthur, and felt uncontrollable laughter bubbling up. She retired hastily into the background.
Fay was introducing Lola to the assembled company with an air of spurious brightness. Mrs. Twining said in her faintly drawling way: "My dear, I am sure there is no need to introduce Miss de Silva, for we must all have heard of her, and of her dancing."
"It is true," agreed Lola affably. "I am very famous, not only in England, but everywhere."
"Dinner is served, my lady," said Finch, enacting Providence from the doorway.