Mr. Thomasson smiled in a sickly fashion.  For one thing, he began to feel hungry; he had not supped.  For another, he wished that he had kept his mouth shut, or had never left Oxford.  With a downcast air, ’I think it might be better,’ he said, ’if your ladyship were to withdraw from this company.’

But her ladyship was at that moment as dangerous as a tigress.  ’You think?’ she cried.  ‘You think?  I think you are a fool!’

A snigger from the doorway gave point to the words; on which Lady Dunborough turned wrathfully in that direction.  But the prudent landlord had slipped away, Sir George also had retired, and the servants and others, concluding the sport was at an end, were fast dispersing.  She saw that redress was not to be had, but that in a moment she would be left alone with her foes; and though she was bursting with spite, the prospect had no charms for her.  For the time she had failed; nothing she could say would now alter that.  Moreover her ladyship was vaguely conscious that in the girl, who still stood pitilessly behind the table, as expecting her to withdraw, she had met her match.  The beautiful face and proud eyes that regarded her so steadfastly had a certain terror for the battered great lady, who had all to lose in a conflict, and saw dimly that coarse words had no power to hurt her adversary.

So Lady Dunborough, after a moment’s hesitation, determined to yield the field.  Gathering her skirts about her with a last gesture of contempt, she sailed towards the door, resolved not to demean herself by a single word.  But halfway across the room her resolution, which had nearly cost her a fit, gave way.  She turned, and withering the three travellers with a glance, ‘You—­you abandoned creature!’ she cried.  ’I’ll see you in the stocks yet!’ And she swept from the room.

Alas! the girl laughed:  and my lady heard her!

Perhaps it was that; perhaps it was the fact that she had not dined, and was leaving her supper behind her; perhaps it was only a general exasperation rendered her ladyship deaf.  From one cause or another she lost something which her woman said to her—­with no small appearance of excitement—­as they crossed the hall.  The maid said it again, but with no better success; and pressing nearer to say it a third time, when they were halfway up the stairs, she had the misfortune to step on her mistress’s train.  The viscountess turned in a fury, and slapped her cheek.

‘You clumsy slut!’ she cried.  ‘Will that teach you to be more careful?’

The woman shrank away, one side of her face deep red, her eyes glittering.  Doubtless the pain was sharp; and though the thing had happened before, it had never happened in public.  But she suppressed her feelings, and answered whimpering, ’If your ladyship pleases, I wished to tell you that Mr. Dunborough is here.’

‘Mr. Dunborough?  Here?’ the viscountess stammered.

‘Yes, my lady, I saw him alighting as we passed the door.’