"With Ashe's sanction?"
"Goodness, no! But Kitty, as you are aware"—Mrs. Alcot threw a prudent glance to right and left—"goes her own way. She believes she can be of great service to her husband's policy."
Darrell's lip twitched.
"If you were in Ashe's position, would you rather your wife neglected or supported your political interests?"
Mrs. Alcot shrugged her shoulders.
"Kitty made a considerable mess of them last year."
"No doubt. She forgot they existed. But I think if I were Ashe, I should be more afraid of her remembering. By-the-way—the glass here seems to be at 'Set Fair'?"
His interrogative smile was not wholly good-natured. But mere benevolence was not what the world asked of Philip Darrell—even in the case of his old friends.
"Astonishing!" said Mrs. Alcot, with lifted brows. "Kitty is immensely proud of him—and immensely ambitious. That, of course, accounts for Lord Parham's visit."
"Lord Parham!" cried Darrell, bounding on his seat. "Lord Parham!—coming here?"