“Well, I do think it is high time that Violet shed her.”
“I quite agree. And from what one gathers, Violet herself is beginning to think so too. She is afraid the little monkey may get up to some mischief.”
“That would not be at all surprising.” Very dry sounded the voice of Gwendolen Childwick, as she got up with her friend and moved on.
Mame stayed where she was. Grave reflections mingled now with the desire for a gentle siesta. The conversation she had overheard was wounding and it was disquieting. In the last few days a suspicion had begun to dawn upon her of a change in Lady Violet’s attitude. Her friend was not quite so cordial or so light-hearted as she had been.
Lady Violet was known to be capricious. She had proved so in the first place, by taking up on sight a nameless little American newspaper girl. And if she smelt danger, as no doubt she did, Mame Du Rance might wake one morning and find herself “in the discard.”
As Mame tramped slowly back through the heather with the other ladies towards the proud keep of Dunkeldie her mind was working with the vigour of a small dynamo. She must come down to cases. There was a Tide. By hook or by crook these women meant to down her. Moreover, they looked like doing it.
The stalkers made a day of it. Early to bed was the order. Even Bill was tired out. But the morrow was spent in the less strenuous pursuit of a few stray grouse. And after dinner the younger sportsmen being game for a hop, the whole party except one or two of the seniors, who were incorrigible bridge players, adjourned to the ballroom. The victrola was brought into use. And after Mame had danced twice with Bill, who had certainly improved since their first essay at the Orient Dance Club, she suddenly began to realise that the time was now.
For one thing it was an evening of warm splendour. The harvesters’ moon was near its zenith. When in the middle of the dance the massive windows of the ballroom were thrown open, the fair scene beyond of woodland, lake and fell looked gloriously inviting.
As Mame stood resting from her labours, with Bill by her side, and with the wary eyes of at least one other lady upon them, she sighed with a certain wistfulness. “That water with the moon on it looks good to me.”
“It is good.” In the last week or two Bill had grown rather quicker in the uptake.