And under the watchful eyes of the most ruthless scandal-promoter in Brussels, Lady Anstiss was obliged to assent, to appear quite friendly and at ease with him, when all the time she felt every word he uttered as a fresh provocation.
"Quite new, is he not?" said Lady Lomond; "that is, out here, I mean. An old friend of yours, no doubt?" Which was embarrassing when Lady Anstiss was secretly making up her mind to cut him dead from that moment.
The door reopened before she answered, and Mr. Berend was back again.
"I forgot," he said, "I am the bearer of a message to Lord Westfaling. Might I give it to him personally?"
"My father is away for three days," replied Lady Anstiss; "I thought General Standish was aware of that."
She intended a reproof, and this time Mr. Berend did not ignore it.
"Quite so," he answered; "my message was not from my chief; it was of a more private nature. Perhaps I might be permitted to have Lord Westfaling's address, or if I might send a note here could it be forwarded?"
"We are not forwarding any letters to him this time; they would only have missed him, perhaps," she answered, "but if you write here he will receive it on arrival."
"Thanks," said Mr. Berend, laconically, and took his final departure.