"Pardon this intrusion, Lady Prudence, and permit me to lay my homage at your feet," he said.
Prue curtsied again. "Pray, my Lord, do not wound me by apologizing for a friendly visit," she returned, with a sweet smile. "Be seated, and let me offer you a cup of chocolate."
The little torment had jumped quickly to the conclusion that some motive of strong personal interest had brought her old lover to the house he had never entered since, scarcely a year ago, their troth had been broken with bitter words and thinly veiled insults on both sides. Her quick intuition warned her that his visit might, very possibly, add another snarl to the tangle in which she felt herself becoming hopelessly enmeshed. So she exerted all her tact and skill to keep him on tenter-hooks, and give herself time to gather her forces, while she discussed frothy scandals and airy nothings, pretending not to notice his lack of response and ill-repressed impatience, until suddenly she turned full upon him her clear and dazzling glance and changed her tactics without a moment's warning.
"But I had forgotten," she said, "how little you care about scandal and poetry, and I can scarcely flatter myself that my frivolous conversation can be very entertaining to you. My tongue runs away with me sadly, doesn't it? I dare say you remember of old what a chatterbox I am. Well," with a sudden change of tone, "now tell me what really brought you to see me?"
Her abrupt question had the intended effect of confusing her visitor and throwing him off his guard, while her ingenuous smile disarmed him.
"Your conversation is delightful at all times, Lady Prudence," he began hurriedly; "so much information—such—ah—intimate knowledge of society—and literature is as rare as it is agreeable. Nothing should I enjoy so much, if I did not have my head so full of a subject which—a—private family affair—which—which—"
He trailed off helplessly, and she let him flounder until his embarrassment ceased to amuse her. Then she said quietly:
"How can I be of any assistance to you, Lord Beachcombe, in a private family affair? That seems quite out of my province."
"Alas! I am but too well aware that I have forfeited all right to ask favors of you, Viscountess," he pleaded, "but I know your generous nature so well that I am emboldened to cast myself upon your mercy."
"You flatter me!" she cried, with her dazzling smile. "What can my generosity and mercy do for Lord Beachcombe?"