"It makes you look wonderfully young," he said, turning a critical eye, first upon the elegant gown of some soft pinky stuff in which his mother had arrayed herself, then upon the subtly rouged and powdered face above it. "You are a marvellous person, mother! All the same, I think the heat must have been getting hold of you, for your eyes are tired. Don't racket too much!"
He spoke with his usual careless kindness, laying a hand upon her arm.
Lady Tressady drew herself away, and, turning her back upon him, looked out of the window.
"Have you seen any more of the Maxwells?" she said, over her shoulders.
George gave a slight involuntary start. Then it occurred to him that his mother was making conversation in an odd way.
"Once or twice," he said, reluctantly, in reply. "They were at the
Ardaghs' the other night, of course."
"Oh! you were there?"—Lady Tressady's voice was sharp again. "Well, of course. Letty went as your wife, and you're a member of Parliament. Lady Ardagh knows me quite well—but I don't count now; she used to be glad enough to ask me."
"It was a great crush, and very hot," said George, not knowing what to say.
Lady Tressady frowned as she looked out of the window.
"Well!—and Lady Maxwell—is she as absurd as ever?"