“How is your wife?” she asked. She could scarcely have made a remark more displeasing to Tarbot. He frowned and bit his lips, then he answered shortly:
“My wife is well, thank you.”
“Do you intend to make a long stay in Devonshire?” was Barbara’s next commonplace remark.
He answered that circumstances would decide that. Just then Mrs. Pelham came into the room, followed by Dick. Dinner was announced, and the party went into the dining hall. The meal was a subdued one. Pelham’s antipathy to Tarbot made itself felt. Notwithstanding all his efforts, he could not be cordial to his unwelcome guest. The men remained for a short time over wine, and joined the ladies soon afterwards in the drawing-room. The moment they did so, Barbara went up to her husband, slipped her hand inside his arm, and led him into the conservatory. Tarbot had hoped to have a few moments’ conversation with her. He bit his lips as he saw what this movement meant.
“She hates me; she cannot bear even to give me ordinary civilities,” he said to himself. “So much the better for my purpose.”
The next instant he found himself in a low chair by Mrs. Pelham’s side.
“You said you wished to see me, Dr. Tarbot,” she said.
“I do,” he replied. “I am anxious to have an interview with you on a matter of grave importance.”
“Your looks frighten me,” she said. “What can be very important to me now?”
“What I am about to tell you will be of the greatest importance. What time to-morrow can we have our interview?”