“And may I ask your ladyship,” he inquired suavely, “what the world expects of me?”
He knew her well enough to know that she never made use of the method epigrammatic without good reason.
“A diamond crescent,” she answered stoutly. “The fashion-papers must be able to write about the gift of the bridegroom's father.”
“Ah—and they prefer a diamond crescent?”
“Yes,” answered Lady Cantourne. “That always seems to satisfy them.”
He bowed gravely and continued to watch the polo with that marvellously youthful interest which was his.
“Does the world expect anything else?” he asked presently.
“No, I think not,” replied Lady Cantourne, with a bright little absent smile. “Not just now.”
“Will you tell me if it does?”
He had risen; for there were other great ladies on the ground to whom he must pay his old-fashioned respects.