"Have you any further use for this letter, Miss Vere? Or—will you allow me to keep it?"
The Vere seemed slightly suspicious of this proposal, but looked amused too.
"Why, what do you want it for?" she inquired bluntly. "To tease him about me?"
Lady Winsleigh forced a smile. "Well—perhaps!" she admitted, then with an air of gentleness and simplicity she continued, "I think, Miss Vere, with you, that it is very wrong of Sir Philip,—very absurd of him, in fact—to interfere with your affairs, whatever they may be,—and as it is very likely annoying to you—"
"It is," interrupted Violet decidedly.
"Then, with the help of this letter—which, really—really—excuse me for saying it!—quite compromises him," and her ladyship looked amiably concerned about it, "I might perhaps persuade him not to—to—intrude upon you—you understand? But if you object to part with the letter, never mind! If I did not fear to offend you, I should ask you to exchange it for—for something more—well! let us say, something more substantial—"
"Don't beat about the bush!" said Violet, with a sudden oblivion of her company manners. "You mean money?"
Lady Winsleigh smiled. "As you put it so frankly, Miss Vere—" she began.
"Of course! I'm always frank," returned the Vere, with a loud laugh. "Besides, what's the good of pretending? Money's the only thing worth having—it pays your butcher, baker, and dressmaker—and how are you to get along if you can't pay them, I'd like to know! Lord! if all the letters I've got from fools were paying stock instead of waste-paper, I'd shut up shop, and leave the Brilliant to look out for itself!"
Lady Winsleigh felt she had gained her object, and she could now afford to be gracious.