"Good-bye!" she says again, and holds out her hand. "We do part—friends?"
He hesitates for a second's space, then a cold, strange smile comes to his lips. "Certainly—the best of friends, Lady Vavasour." The door opens as those mocking words escape his lips. Before them stands Mrs. Douglas, her face white and anxious.
"I am just coming, mamma," says Lauraine calmly. "I cannot prevail upon Mr. Athelstone to join us at breakfast!"
"So pleased to see you, my dear Keith!" says Mrs. Douglas sweetly. "Only such an unfortunate time for a visit. Impossible to hear all your news. We must have a long, quiet chat together when all this is over. Lauraine, my dear, you must really come back to the drawing-room. Can't we prevail upon you, Keith?"
"No, you can't," says Keith rudely. "I have been so long away from fashionable society that I am afraid I shouldn't get on with your guests. But I am quite ready to have a chat with you, Mrs. Douglas, when you can favour me with your company. I think we have something besides news to discuss."
"Most happy—delighted, I'm sure," answers Mrs. Douglas vaguely. "I will write and tell you what day, my dear Keith. So many engagements just now, you know."
She sails out of the room, with Lauraine beside her.
"Really, Keith has become quite American," she says complainingly. "So altered—so quite too coarse, and all that. It makes me shudder to hear him speak. He will be just like the Bradshaw Woollffes, I suppose. What a time you were with him, Lauraine—such bad form, you know! However, I am glad he's going. It would have been quite unpleasant if he had stayed."
Lauraine draws her hand away from her mother's arm, and looks her steadily in the face.
"You are right," she says, "it would."