Madeline read the letter with a smile, then she handed it to her husband.
‘The Countess is not content with mere lions this year,’ she said. ‘She evidently intends to make a lioness of me. Shall we go?’
‘Yes, we had better go, my dear,’ returned Forster quietly. ‘Beneath all her humbug the Countess is an excellent person; she would be really pained if we stayed away.’
So without more ado—without more thought—the step was taken which was to become the great turning point in Madeline’s life.
Breakfast over, Forster went to the City, while Madeline wrote a little note accepting the lady’s invitation; then put the whole matter from her mind, ordered her carriage, and an hour later was driving down Regent Street, with the little boy who was now her constant companion.
The life into which Madeline had entered on her marriage had proved so far to be a happy one. James Forster, always kind and considerate, was devoted to his young wife; while Madeline tried to repay some of his kindness to her by lavishing her affection on his child. ‘He shall never repent marrying me,’ she said to herself a hundred times a day. ‘He alone knows I did not bring him honour, but I will bring him happiness.’ And she tried to keep her word.
Meantime, the days flew past, and at length the momentous one arrived on which Mr. and Mrs. Forster were to appear at the Countess’s house at Barnes. Forster went to the City as usual, but promised to return early; he was detained, however, so that when he reached home he found his wife already arrayed for the night. He looked at her, then gently kissed her.
‘Madeline, my dear,’ he said, ‘I never saw you look more lovely’: then he added quietly—‘Should you mind very much, my love, if I stayed at home to-night?’
‘Stayed at home?’
‘Yes, I have had one of my nervous headaches all day, and I don’t feel equal to facing the Countess’s crowded rooms.’