After a little pause, Miss Maubray laughs.
“One certainly does learn,” she said, “something new every day. Could any one have fancied a gentleman descending to so gross a meanness?”
“Everybody is a gentleman now-a-days,” remarked Mr. Longcluse with a smile; “but every one is not a hero—they give way, more or less, under temptation. Those who stand the test of the crucible and the furnace are seldom met with.”
At this moment the door opened, and Lord Wynderbroke was announced. A little start, a lighting of the eyes, as Grace rose, and a fluttered advance, with a very pretty little hand extended, to meet him, testified, perhaps, rather more surprise than one would have quite expected. For Mr. Longcluse, who did not know him so well as Miss Maubray, recognised his voice, which was peculiar, and resembling the caw of a jay, as he put a question to the servant on his way up.
Mr. Longcluse took his leave. He was not sorry that Lord Wynderbroke had called. He wished no success to Sir Richard's wooing. He thought he had pretty well settled the question in Miss Maubray's mind, and smiling, he rode at a pleasant canter to Lady May's. It was as well, perhaps, that she should hear the same story. Lady May, however, unfortunately, had just gone out for a drive.
CHAPTER LXV.
BEHIND THE ARRAS.
