You spoke of Melba, I think! She is
singing in the further room."
Lady Ruth rose up, still and pale. There was fear in her eyes when she
looked at him.
"Is it to be always like this, then?" she said.
"Ah!" he answered, "I am no prophet. Who can tell what the days may
bring? In the meantime..."
The Marchioness was very much in request that evening, and she found
time for only a few words with Wingrave.
"What have you been doing to poor Ruth?" she asked. "I never saw her
look so ill!"
"Indeed!" he answered, "I had not noticed it."
"If I didn't know her better," she remarked, "I might begin to suspect
her of a conscience. Whose baby were you driving about this afternoon?
I didn't know that your taste ran to ingenues to such an extent. She's
sweetly pretty, but I don't think it's nice of you to flaunt her
before us middle-aged people. It's enough to drive us to the rouge
box. Come to lunch tomorrow!"
"I shall be delighted," he answered, and passed on.
An hour or so later, on his way out, he came upon Lady Ruth sitting a
little forlornly in the hall.
"I wonder whether I dare ask you to drop me in Cadogan Square?" she
asked. "Is it much out of your way? I am leaving a little earlier than
I expected."
"I shall be delighted," he answered, offering his arm.
They passed out of the door and down the covered way into the street.
A few stragglers were loitering on the pavement, and one, a tall, thin
young man in a long ulster, bent forwards as they came down the steps.
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