[p 135]
“Then you know the dear Canon?” I heard Miss Charlotte say.
“Most intimately!” replied Lucio with fervour—“and I assure you I am thankful to have the privilege of knowing him. A truly perfect man!—almost a saint—if not quite!”
“So pure-minded!” sighed the spinster.
“So free from every taint of hypocrisy!” murmured Lucio with intense gravity.
“Ah yes! Yes indeed! And so——”
Here they passed into the dining-room and I could hear no more. I followed with my beautiful partner, and in another minute we were all seated at table.
[p 136]
XII
The dinner went on in the fashion of most dinners at great houses,—commencing with arctic stiffness and formality, thawing slightly towards the middle course, and attaining to just a pleasant warmth of mutual understanding when ices and dessert gave warning of its approaching close. Conversation at first flagged unaccountably, but afterwards brightened under Lucio’s influence to a certain gaiety. I did my best to entertain Lady Sibyl, but found her like most ‘society’ beauties, somewhat of a vague listener. She was certainly cold, and in a manner irresponsive,—moreover I soon decided that she was not particularly clever. She had not the art of sustaining or appearing to sustain interest in any one subject; on the contrary, she had, like many of her class, an irritating habit of mentally drifting away from you into an absorbed reverie of her own in which you had no part, and which plainly showed you how little she cared for anything you or anyone else happened to be saying. Many little random remarks of hers however implied that in her apparently sweet nature there lurked a vein of cynicism and a certain contempt for men, and more than once her light words stung my sense of self-love almost to resentment, while they strengthened the force of my resolve to win her and bend that proud spirit of hers to the meekness befitting the wife of a millionaire and—a genius. A genius? Yes,—God help me!—that is what I judged myself to be. My arrogance was two-fold,—it arose not only [p 137] from what I imagined to be my quality of brain, but also from the knowledge of what my wealth could do. I was perfectly positive that I could buy Fame,—buy it as easily as one buys a flower in the market,—and I was more than positive that I could buy love. In order to commence proving the truth of this, I threw out a ‘feeler’ towards my object.
“I believe,” I said suddenly, addressing the Earl—“you used to live in Warwickshire at Willowsmere Court did you not?”