"Speak for yourselves, please," said Sir Wilfrid's soft, smiling voice, as he daintily relieved his mustache of some of the Duchess's cream.
"Oh, that's all very well," said the Duchess, throwing up a hand in mock annoyance; "but why weren't you there?"
"I knew better."
"The people who keep out of scrapes are not the people one loves," was the Duchess's peevish reply.
"Let him alone," said Lord Lackington, coming for some more tea-cake. "He will get his deserts. Next Wednesday he will be tête-à-tête with Lady Henry."
"Lady Henry is going to Torquay to-morrow," said Sir Wilfrid, quietly.
"Ah!"
There was a general chorus of interrogation, amid which the Duchess made herself heard.
"Then you've seen her?"
"To-day, for twenty minutes--all she was able to bear. She was ill yesterday. She is naturally worse to-day. As to her state of mind--"