Genevieve readily accompanied her from the conservatory.
Blake had gone, alone, for they found Lord James in the midst of a lively tete-a-tete with Dolores.
At sight of the merry couple, Genevieve paused in the doorway to recall to her companion some previous conversation. "You see, Aunty. Confess now. They would make a perfect couple."
"Nonsense. He would never dream of such a thing, even were you out of his thoughts. What is more, though he seems to have caught her in one of her gay moods, I know that she simply abominates him. She told him as much, within a minute after you left us."
"I'm so sorry!" sighed Genevieve. "At least let us slip out without interrupting them. I must be going, anyway."
"My dear, I have you to consider before Dolores," replied Mrs. Gantry, and she advanced upon the unconscious couple. "Genevieve is going."
Lord James looked about, for the slightest fraction of a moment discomposed. Genevieve perceived the fleeting expression, and hastened to interpose. "Do not trouble. It is so short a distance."
But the Englishman was already bowing to Dolores. The girl turned her back upon him with deliberate rudeness.
"You see!" murmured Mrs. Gantry to Genevieve.
When Lord James and her niece had gone, the outraged dame wheeled upon her daughter. But at the first word, Dolores faced her with such an outblazing of rebellious anger that the mother thought best to defer her lecture.