Lord Deerehurst gave one of his thin, metallic laughs.
"I always think," he said slowly, "that if Frances Hope had been the child of a milkman instead of a marquis, she would have made a singularly successful adventuress. No reflections cast upon the late Sammy, my dear Barnard!"
He waved his white hand, and the dim, uncertain light gleamed on a magnificent diamond ring.
Barnard laughed with a tolerant air.
"Rather an apt deduction!" he admitted. "I am inclined to agree with you. Frances is just one of those shrewd, plain-looking, attractive women who enjoy climbing steep ladders. It is rather a pity she was born on the top rung. But I believe we have frightened Mrs. Milbanke!"
He turned suddenly and caught Clodagh's expression, as she sat forward, listening intently.
At the mention of her name, she laughed quickly, and leant back against the cushions of her seat.
"What do you mean?" she asked with a touch of constraint. "Am I as childish as all that?"
They all looked at her; and Barnard gave an amused laugh.
"Come!" he cried banteringly. "There's no use telling me you weren't just a little shocked."