They had already bidden their hostess good-night, and getting their things, they set out to walk their different ways. When Dick got home he did not go to bed. He sat in an armchair, considering the events of the evening, and trying to find some way out of the complexity of his thoughts. He was surprised when the morning sun sent a bright ray of light into his room.
But Lady Kelsey was not yet at the end of her troubles. Bobbie, having got rid of his friends, went to her and asked if she would not come downstairs and drink a cup of soup. The poor lady, quite exhausted, thought him very considerate. One or two persons, with their coats on, were still in the room, waiting for their womenkind; and in the hall there was a little group of belated guests huddled around the door, while cabs and carriages were being brought up for them. There was about everyone the lassitude which follows the gaiety of a dance. The waiters behind the tables were heavy-eyed. Lucy was bidding good-bye to one or two more intimate friends.
Lady Kelsey drank the hot soup with relief.
'My poor legs are dropping,' she said. 'I'm sure I'm far too tired to go to sleep.'
'I want to talk to Lucy before I go,' said Bobbie, abruptly.
'To-night?' she asked in dismay.
'Yes, I want you to send her a message that you wish to see her in your boudoir.'
'Why, what on earth's the matter?'
'She can't go on in this way. It's perfectly monstrous. Something must be done immediately.'
Lady Kelsey understood what he was driving at. She knew how great was his love, and she, too, had seen his anger when Lucy danced with Alec MacKenzie. But the whole affair perplexed her utterly. She put down her cup.