CHAPTER XIV
Captain Carden found himself in an unusual and delightful situation: he had something to say, and that something interested various people. Launa had attracted a certain amount of attention, from the British matron upwards, but being a Canadian, which, after all, is as bad as being an American, all things were expected of her, and being rich, all things were forgiven her. She had appropriated young men, but seemed to prefer quality to quantity.
Since her father’s death, she had lived in great seclusion. The world gave her no credit for it, it was the seclusion, no doubt, of one who is well amused. People talked uncertainly to her about art and music, for it was rumoured that she was composing, and in truth she was working and having lessons from Herr Donau.
Captain Carden had never forgiven her laugh that night. Ridicule to this gallant son of Mars was torture. He sallied forth garnished with importance, and carrying a full card-case to call on his many friends. He went first to Lady Blake’s. He had murmured to many people, “Have you heard about Miss Archer?”
He had no cause to think that Lady Blake would receive him with rapture, but his news would interest her.
Lady Blake was at home. She was alone and hating it, so she welcomed Captain Carden with joy. Her last party had been a failure. Mr. Wainbridge had plainly taken no interest in her latest quarrel with her husband, and Herr Donau talked of nothing but Miss Archer’s wonderful execution. Captain Carden was a man, and as such, available for conquest, and she welcomed him as a relief to her feelings.
They talked of the weather, of the opera, and finally he mentioned Launa.
“Is there no other girl in London? Must you all talk of her?”
“Why?” he asked. “Have you heard?”