Richard, very flushed and unhappy, began to suspect the Lady Letitia of mendacity. Mary Sugg had never seen his verses. And the dowager had talked for some time to Jilian, perhaps poisoning the girl’s mind.
“My dear cousin—” he began.
“Won’t you go and talk to Miss Perkaby, Richard? I am such a dull creature. Heavens! what is the matter with Sir Peter, yonder?”
A sudden hubbub had arisen at the Lady Letitia’s table. The baronet, a look of overheated indignation on his face, had thrown down his cards and was taking snuff with great vigor. The Lady Letitia was turning over the tricks with a wicked smile in her eyes. Parson Sugg appeared flushed and uncomfortable, while Mrs. Bilson sat bolt upright in her chair. The players at the other tables were glancing curiously at one another.
“Pardon me, Sir Peter.”
“Pardon you, madam!”
“See. You did revoke. See, sir, you played a club here.”
“Damn the club, madam!”
Mrs. Bilson uttered a little squeak of indignation, tilted her nose, and stared at the baronet with shocked pity.
“It is evident that my partner has made a mistake, Lady Letitia,” she said, with unpleasant emphasis upon the error.