"Certainly. I was staying in her father's house while the engagement was going on."
"Were you!" said Lady Selina, eagerly, "and what did you think of her?"
"Well, in the first place," said Wharton, slowly, "she is beautiful—you knew that?"
Lady Selina nodded.
"Yes. Miss Raeburn, who has told me most of what I know, always throws in a shrug and a 'but' when you ask about her looks. However, I have seen a photograph of her, so I can judge for myself. It seemed to me a beauty that men perhaps would admire more than women."
Wharton devoted himself to his green peas, and made no reply. Lady Selina glanced at him sharply. She herself was by no means a beauty. But neither was she plain. She had a long, rather distinguished face, with a marked nose and a wide thin-lipped mouth. Her plentiful fair hair, a little dull and ashy in colour, was heaped up above her forehead in infinitesimal curls and rolls which did great credit to her maid, and gave additional height to the head and length to a thin white neck. Her light blue eyes were very direct and observant. Their expression implied both considerable knowledge of the world and a natural inquisitiveness. Many persons indeed were of opinion that Lady Selina wished to know too much about you and were on their guard when she approached.
"You admired her very much, I see," she resumed, as Wharton still remained silent.
"Oh, yes. We talked Socialism, and then I defended her poacher for her."
"Oh, I remember. And it is really true, as Miss Raeburn says, that she broke it off because she could not get Lord Maxwell and Mr. Raeburn to sign the petition for the poacher?"
"Somewhere about true," said Wharton, carelessly.