"I do not know why you tell me this," he answered slowly, as if reluctant to speak to her at all; yet he was incapable of silencing her, of escaping her, or even of taking his eyes from her face.
"I suppose it seems nothing to you," continued the Countess, "but I am not one of these people—your people—and to me it is something."
"What matter can idle scandal like this be to any of us?" said Marius desperately.
"It is true," answered Lady Lyndwood. "As you know——"
"What have I to do with my lord's affairs?"
"Nothing, perhaps, and something, too, perhaps. At least, you know this is true. Were not their names coupled before his marriage?"
Marius was silent. The curious impersonal way in which she referred to her husband vexed and galled him, yet he felt a prick of indignation against Rose and against Selina Boyle. The Countess was his brother's wife, Marius Lyndwood had a strong sense of fairness, a keen instinct for justice and order.
"She hath been enamoured of him since they first met," said Lady Lyndwood; "and he, I suppose, is in love with her, or rather, I take it, he fancies an idyll as background to his amusements. Either way they scorn to think of me—Jack Hilton's daughter! The whole of the town knows now how they have exchanged their sentimentalities over my head."
"How did it get into the papers?" asked Marius heavily.
"I cannot tell." Her voice was contemptuous. "Some maid of hers not sufficiently bribed. What does it matter? I think it has been plain enough to everyone from the first."