This was readily comprehensible. During dinner, Lord Southleigh, frowning and morose, in close juxtaposition with his guests, had in a very real sense dominated the scene, and communicated a sense of his hostility and displeasure to all round him, not least to the unhappy young woman who had inspired those wrathful feelings.
Upstairs he was less in evidence. He retreated to the far end of the room, flung himself in a deep armchair, and, in a way, removed himself from the proceedings. There was nobody to whom he felt himself constrained to be civil. Murchison he had known from a boy; he could afford to be uncivil, to play the rôle of churlish host. Miss Crichton was more or less a social hanger-on, grateful for invitations to good houses; she did not count. Guy had forfeited all claim to consideration. His wife ought to be made to feel her position every moment of her life.
Murchison gravitated to Miss Crichton. Well born, she was very poor, and by no means proud. She accepted in a meek spirit the social crumbs that were thrown at her by her wealthy superiors. She was always obliging and amiable. She never grumbled at being asked to join a dinner-party at the eleventh hour, when some other guest had failed. She never resented being put in a small bedroom at a country house-party, while a rich girl with no ancestry was given a luxurious apartment.
On account of this excessive amiability, this indifference to studied and unstudied slights, she was immensely popular. All her friends declared her not only to be amiable, but "so sensible!"
Hugh had known her for years, and in a way he pitied her, much more really than she pitied herself, for she had long since grown accustomed to her lot. But what he did know was, that she was as shrewd as she was amiable, that under that gay and smiling exterior she concealed a very acute intelligence.
He wanted particularly to know her opinion of Mrs. Spencer, if she were frank enough to give it, for she had especially developed the bump of caution. She heard a great deal, but what she heard she generally kept to herself. It would have been fatal to her somewhat insecure position if it could have been said of her, with regard to any particular scandal, "Of course, you will never give me away, but Laura Crichton was my informant."
He replied in a general way, "I was very interested, to-night, in my old friend Guy Spencer's wife. She is a little bit on the quiet side, but she is very beautiful, and there is certainly a wonderful charm about her. Of course, Lord Southleigh behaved abominably. I rather wonder she did not fling herself out of the room. One can understand his feelings, in a certain way. But why does he not take one attitude or the other? If he elects to receive her, for the sake of avoiding an open breach, he ought to put his hostility in his pocket."
Miss Crichton smiled her worldly and diplomatic smile: "Dear Lord Southleigh is never very successful at hiding his real feelings."
"Do you see much of her?" asked Hugh presently.
"Oh, very little. I have met her a few times here, at these little informal gatherings. Lord Southleigh won't have her at their big parties, as I daresay you know. I have called on her a few times, and she has called back. That is all."