"My lady, my lady, don't you see what the woman wants? She's watching you."
SEVENTY-THIRD CHAPTER
My husband was the next to go.
He made excuse of his Parliamentary duties. He might be three or four weeks away, but meantime Alma would be with me, and in any case I was not the sort of person to feel lonely.
Never having heard before of any devotion to his duty as a peer, I asked if that was all that was taking him to London.
"Perhaps not all," he answered, and then, with a twang of voice and a twitch of feature, he said:
"I'm getting sick of this God-forsaken place, and then . . . to tell you the truth, your own behaviour is beginning to raw me."
With my husband's departure my triumphal course seemed to come to a close. Left alone with Alma, I became as weak and irresolute as before and began to brood upon Price's warning.
My maid had found a fierce delight in my efforts to assert myself as mistress in my husband's house, but now (taking her former advantage) she was for ever harping upon my foolishness in allowing Alma to remain in it.