“He is indeed,” replied Betty, with a sigh, “and may he stay there!” she added mentally; but to Mr. Benham, “Has the king come?”
“He came yesterday, and with him, Lord Albemarle; the Princess Anne is here too, and my Lady Marlborough.”
“Dear me,” said Lady Betty, with an unconcealed yawn, “the world is here, it seems, and I am so weary that I must crave your ladyship’s license to retire.”
“Nay,” said Mr. Benham gallantly, “it is my lord and I who should retire and permit your ladyship to rest.”
“I protest!” cried Lady Sunderland; “the gleek was but half played.”
But she made no great effort to detain them; indeed, she wanted an opportunity to speak plainly to her daughter, so the beaux were allowed to bow themselves out, with more than one lingering glance at the beautiful, haughty face by the fireside. No sooner was the door closed, however, than Lady Sunderland turned on her daughter.
“Your folly passes belief, Elizabeth,” she said tartly, quite oblivious of the two attendants quietly waiting in the background; “I am tired of the name of Clancarty; your father and I intend to divorce the rascal. To parade the matter as you do is simply childish, my love, quite childish.”
Lady Betty sipped her tea and looked into the fire.
“I am not divorced,” she remarked placidly, “and Lord Clancarty, being a Romanist, may object to divorces.”
Lady Sunderland laughed unpleasantly, tapping her fan on the arm of her chair.