"And you could marry—with this hanging over your head!"
"Carr—"
The butler came in with an interruption.
"My lady wishes to know whether your lordship is going out with her to-night."
"Not to-night," answered Lord Hartledon, pointing to the door for the man to make his exit. "It is of her I think, not of myself," he murmured to Mr. Carr.
"And he"—the barrister pointed above to indicate the stranger—"threatens to have you apprehended on the charge?"
"I hardly know what he threatens. You must deal with him, Carr; I cannot. Let us go; we are wasting time."
As they left the room to go upstairs Lady Hartledon came out of the dining-room and crossed their path. She was deeply mortified at her husband's bringing Mr. Carr to the house after what she had said; and most probably came out at the moment to confront them with her haughty and disapproving face. However that might have been, all other emotions gave place to surprise, when she saw their faces, each bearing a livid look of fear.
"I hope you are well, Lady Hartledon," said Mr. Carr.
She would not see the offered hand, but swept onwards with a cold curtsey, stopping just a moment to speak to her husband.