Lady Lyons accepted, and they went downstairs before they left. Lady Penryn came up to Grace with a good deal of grace, and kissed her on both cheeks.
"For the sake of old times," she said, plaintively.
"She is a sweet young thing," she continued, "and has fulfilled the promise of her youth;" and Grace noted that she took care not to introduce either of the men standing near.
"We will soon meet again, I trust," she said, in a pathetic voice.
"That depends upon you," said Grace, quietly. "When you return our visit I hope we shall be at home."
"Ah! till then, good-bye. Sweet thing—good-bye."
"Sweet thing!—good-bye," mimicked Grace, as they got into the brougham.
"Oh! my dear, hush!—some one might hear you."
"Yes, the coachman. I think we had better pursue your Mrs. Penshurst."
"If I could but remember anything about her husband—but I do not. I lay awake for half-an-hour last night, and I cannot recall his Christian name. It may be Charles, but I think it is John—no, it may be James," and Lady Lyons looked blankly before her.