“Dr. Hurrell brought me,” he answered.
“He showed discretion in bringing you to the dullest house in London, also the most respectable. How is Camberwell, and do you have high tea?”
“My wife is at Brighton,” replied Basil, feeling, as ever, humiliated by Lady Vizard’s banter.
“I didn’t expect she was here. You’re really very good-looking. What a pity it is you’re so absurd!”
She nodded to her son and passed on. Presently she came to Miss Ley, who stood by herself watching with amusement the various throng.
“How d’you do?” said Lady Vizard.
“I had no idea that you remembered me,” answered the other.
“I saw in the paper that you had inherited the fortune of that odious Miss Dwarris. Haven’t you found that lots of people have remembered you since then?” She did not wait for an answer. “Aren’t you a friend of my young hopeful? I’ve just seen him, and I can’t imagine why he dislikes me so much. I suppose he thinks I’m wicked, but I’m not in the least, really. I’m not conscious of ever having committed a sin in my life. I’ve done foolish things and things I regret, but that’s all.”
“It’s very comfortable to have the approval of one’s own conscience,” murmured Miss Ley.
Lord de Capit at that moment advanced to Lady Vizard, and Miss Ley took the opportunity to go to Mrs. Barlow-Bassett, superbly imposing as usual, who was talking with the Castillyons.