"Hum!--But mind you don't talk too much. Oliver talks a great deal more than is good for him. So you met Oliver in Italy? What do you think of him?"
Diana, keeping a grip on laughter, said something civil.
"Oh, Oliver's clever enough--and ambitious!" Lady Niton threw up her hands. "But I'll tell you what stands in his way. He says too sharp things of people. Do you notice that?"
"He is very critical," said Diana, evasively.
"Oh, Lord, much worse than that!" said Lady Niton, coolly. "He makes himself very unpopular. You should tell him so."
"That would be hardly my place." said Diana, flushing a little.
Lady Niton stared at her a moment rather hard--then said: "But he's honey and balm itself compared to Isabel! The Marshams are old friends of mine, but I don't pretend to like Isabel Fotheringham at all. She calls herself a Radical, and there's no one insists more upon their birth and their advantages than she. Don't let her bully you--come to me if she does--I'll protect you."
Diana said vaguely that Mrs. Fotheringham had been very kind.
"You haven't had time to find out," said Lady Niton, grimly. She leaned back fanning herself, her queer white face and small black eyes alive with malice. "Did you ever see such a crew as we were at dinner? I reminded Oliver of the rhyme--'The animals went in two by two.'--It's always the way here. There's no society in this house, because you can't take anything or any one for granted. One must always begin from the beginning. What can I have in common with that man Barton? The last time I talked to him, he thought Lord Grey--the Reform Bill Lord Grey--was a Tory--and had never heard of Louis Philippe. He knows nothing that we know--and what do I care about his Socialist stuff?--Well, now--Alicia"--her tone changed--"do you admire Alicia?"
Diana, in discomfort, glanced through the archway, leading to the inner drawing-room, which framed the sparkling figure of Miss Drake--and murmured a complimentary remark.