Lady Betty’s face was as white as her gown, and her fingers trembled as she swept her skirts aside on either hand and courtesied gracefully.
“I bid you adieu, sir,” she said, and walked up the steps just as Lady Sunderland called out sharply,—
“Betty, Betty, come and take tea with us, my love, and teach Lady Dacres that old game of ‘Angel Beast’; she hath forgotten it. La, how white you are, my dear; a touch of rouge and a patch—you look like a ghost.”
“I am, madam,” said Lady Betty.
And the two dames stared.
That night the ruthless Lady Betty awakened her attendant.
“Alice,” she said, “hast ever heard the legend of King Arthur?”
The poor handmaid yawned.
“Nay, madam,” she replied sleepily, “who was he?”