"You are very good to flatter me," answers Keith. "What I said was scarcely a compliment. How handsome Lady Jean Salomans looks to-night!"
"Yes," answers his companion, giving a rapid glance from under her languid lids in the direction indicated.
Lady Jean is sitting on an ottoman, with a maze of hothouse blossoms as a background for her brilliant beauty, and wears a dress of corn-coloured satin, with scarlet poppies gleaming here and there. Sir Francis is standing beside her, and looking down with unmistakable admiration at the animated face and brilliant eyes.
Involuntarily Keith's glance turns from her to Lauraine. What a contrast!
"Like a sunflower and a lily," murmurs the Lady Etwynde, following that glance and comprehending it.
"Yes," he says, quietly. "They are very unlike. One would scarcely expect the same man to admire both."
"Sir Francis has been more than two years married," says Lady Etwynde, musingly. "Time enough, I suppose, to admire other people besides his own wife. Why will women marry? It is such a mistake!"
"Why will they marry the wrong man, is more to the point," Keith mutters under his thick moustache. "Heavens, what ill-assorted matches one does see!"
"True," replies "the Ladye." "Scarcely made in heaven, I suppose you think?"
"In a very different place, it is my candid opinion."