Fairfax and His Pride: A Novel

by Marie Van Vorst

"I must go, Mary," he said. "I have some work to do this afternoon."

She smiled at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Tony."

The others had moved away to speak to the Comtesse Potowski, and they were alone.

"I am becoming ridiculous," said Antony, "that is true, but it is not because I am going to work."

She did not seem to notice anything in his gravity. "Don't forget we are dining and driving out to Versailles; don't forget, Tony."

Fairfax made no response. On his face was a pitiless look, but Mrs. Faversham, happy in her successful breakfast and enchanted with the music, did not read his expression.

"I will come in to-morrow, Mary."

Mrs. Faversham, turning to a man who had come up to her, still understood nothing.

"Don't forget, Tony,"—she nodded at him—"this afternoon."

Antony bade her good-bye. He looked back at her across the room, and she seemed to him then the greatest stranger of them all.