“Are you telling me that that harpy had the effrontery to call upon you?” he demanded.
“No, for she told me she had been in poor health, and so could not do so.”
“Ha!” ejaculated his lordship. “Very pretty, by Jove! She would not dare!”
“Oh, dear, I was afraid she could not be quite the thing when I saw the kind of company she kept!” Hero said remorsefully. “For when I went to her house there was no one there whom I was acquainted with, except Sir Matthew Brockenhurst, and Wilfred Yardford, and I know you do not like me to be upon terms with them.”
“They saw you there? Damnation!” muttered his lordship.
“They — they did not pay much heed to me, Sherry, and I only bowed very slightly, I assure you!”
“It’s not that. If Yarford saw you, it will be all over town! Nothing could be more unfortunate! We shall have all the old tabbies — yes, and not only the old ones! — spreading it about that you’re fast. I dare say Brock may keep his mouth shut: dash it, he calls himself a friend of mine! Though, by God, if he were half the friend he’d like me to think him he’d have had you out of that den, and escorted you home! Why, Gil or George, or even Ferdy, wouldn’t have hesitated! However, it’s too late to worry ourselves over that now! Where did you meet the Gillingham?”
“At the Pantheon Assembly Rooms, Sherry. There was a masquerade.”
“Whom were you with?”
“With my cousin, Theresa Hoby, and a party of her choosing.”