"Imagine what Boileau has just told me; Lady Ellersby has a party at Restormel next week! I do think we had a right to be asked; don't you?"
"Oh certainly, love," replied Lady Baskerville, a sweet-sounding epithet of affection which but on few occasions passed between them: "Certainly: and if we are not, I shall think it quite rude; but I will arrange the matter."
That night Lady Baskerville went to the Opera with Lady Boileau; as soon as an opportunity presented itself, Lady Baskerville turned suddenly round, and said, "Oh, there is Lady Ellersby, I see, in her box: how well she looks—of course you are going to Restormel at Easter?" and she kissed her hand the while, in her most smiling manner, to the lady of whom she spoke.
"No, I am not invited," replied Lady Boileau. "Are you?"
"Yes," rejoined Lady Baskerville, (determined to hazard the lie at all events, and trust to chance, or her own devices, to make it true afterwards.) "But how very odd she should have left you out; it must be some mistake."
"Oh, no, it is not a mistake—it cannot be; for Lady Ellersby, you know, makes all her invitations on these occasions de vive voix." Lady Baskerville almost betrayed herself as she felt Lady Boileau's penetrating eyes fixed upon her's, with a scrutiny she did not wish to prolong; however she rallied dexterously, and turned off the discourse into some other channel; but Lady Boileau returned to the charge, saying:
"Well, my dear Lady Baskerville, as you are asked, do you not think you could get us invited also? You know I hardly ever break my rule of running the risk of compromising a friend by tormenting her to procure invitations, but for this once I think I may venture, considering our long friendship, to entrust you with the secret (for you know I would not have it said for the world), that I wish to be of the number of the Priées to Restormel—now as I intend giving my first ball immediately after Easter, I shall consult her to-night about certain persons whom I am rather doubtful whether I shall ask or not, and then by appealing to you, throw the conversation into your hands, and give you an opportunity of naming those who are invited to Restormel, which will bring about the subject in such a natural way, that either I must be asked or she will commit herself by a rudeness which she generally avoids."
Lady Baskerville sat on thorns, but during the length of this speech she had leisure to collect her scattered senses, and began a reply equally elaborate, professing herself to be exceedingly attached and obliged to Lady Boileau, and for that very reason declining all interference on the present occasion—"for you know," she said, "it makes one so very nervous to put a friend under the unpleasant predicament of being refused. Besides, the moment one lets the world know that one has a friend who wants any thing, people begin immediately to conclude that they may want many things, and directly look shy, and make an excuse, and get off, and probably cut both the asker and the person for whom they ask. However you know I will do what I can do, but only I entreat you will leave me at liberty to chuse the mode of managing this business."
"Yes," rejoined Lady Boileau, "most certainly; but perhaps the best way of all will be to say nothing about it, beforehand, and then for me to arrive unexpectedly, and say you had asked me, and had forgotten to mention to Lady Ellersby that you had done so."