A break up of the group came when a certain
great and much-talked-about lady sent across an imperative message by
her cavalier for the moment. She desired that Mr. Wingrave should be
presented to her.
They passed down the room together a few moments later, the
Marchioness wonderfully dressed in a gown of strange turquoise blue,
looking up at her companion, and talking with somewhat unusual
animation. Everyone made remarks, of course--exchanged significant
glances and unlovely smiles. It was so like the Marchioness to claim,
as a matter of course, the best of everything that was going. Lady
Ruth watched them with a curious sense of irritation for which she
could not altogether account. It was impossible that she should be
jealous, and yet it was equally certain that she was annoyed. If
Wingrave resisted his present fair captor, he would enjoy a notability
equal to that which his wealth already conferred upon him. No man as
yet had done it. Was it likely that Wingrave would wear two crowns?
Lady Ruth beckoned Aynesworth to her.
"Tell me," she said, "what is Mr. Wingrave's general attitude towards
my sex?"
"Absolute indifference," he declared promptly, "unless--"
He stopped short.
"You must go on," she told him.
"Unless he is possessed of the ability to make them suffer," he
answered after a moment's hesitation.
"Then Emily will never attract him," she declared almost triumphantly,
"for she has no more heart that he has.
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