“Of course you understand, Christine,” she said, “that I am convinced to begin with that your Catnip has been telling you a pack of lies, and that there’s not a word of truth in the tale from beginning to end. ’Tis very foolish of you to have anything at all to say to such a fellow, and my advice to you is to drop him at once. Is he willing to make affidavit that ’twas really the Marquise Desmoines he saw there?”
“Oh, yiss, madame! He stand close by de box on which Madame la Marquise sit, and he recognize de ring on her finger, and her tone as she speak with her companion. They sit on de box next to Madame Lancaster.”
“Could she and Mrs. Lancaster see each other?”
“Not whiles dey sit so; but soon Madame Lancaster get up and go out in front, and den Madame la Marquise....”
“Aye, aye: a mighty pretty story! And so then Sir Francis fainted away, did he, and Mrs. Lancaster got a carriage, and Catnip followed it?... Upon my word, Christine, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to listen to such trash: much more to repeat it to me. Take care you never open your mouth about it to any one else, that’s all.”
“There, that’ll do. Now go and tell Withers that I shall want the carriage immediately after breakfast. And, Christine ... put in order the bed-room and the sitting-room on the second floor: I’m expecting some one to spend the night. Don’t forget.”
Lady Flanders went down to breakfast, ate with a good appetite, and having put on her bonnet and cloak, she got into her carriage and was driven to the Marquise Desmoines’. The latter received her august visitor with some surprise, for Lady Flanders had not hitherto shown much disposition to cultivate intimate relations with the beautiful widow. But her ladyship was notorious for indulging in whims of which no one but herself could divine the reason: and in the present instance she was evidently laying herself out to be exceptionally polite and entertaining. After ten minutes’ desultory chat on things in general, the name of Philip Lancaster happened to fall, quite by accident, from Lady Flanders’ lips, and after a moment’s pause she said:
“By-the-by, my dear, I was quite upset yesterday. I don’t know whether to believe it or not. I’ve taken such a fancy to the young gentleman, I should be sorry to see his domestic felicity destroyed. I have always disapproved of man’s marrying beneath him ... the girl may be very attractive in some ways, but such persons lack training, and a proper realization of their social duties. Bless you, I don’t expect women to be saints--that would put an end to society in six weeks--but there is everything in savoir-faire, tact, the way a thing is managed. Let a woman do anything but make a vulgar exhibition of herself. And that is just what this unfortunate creature seems to have done--that is, if the story is to be believed: and I have it on pretty good authority. What do you think about it?”