“That is Lord Wandle,” said Lady Winterbourne, “and his plain second wife behind him.  Edward always scolds me for not admiring him.  He says women know nothing at all about men’s looks, and that Lard Wandle was the most splendid man of his time.  But I always think it an unpleasant face.”

“Lord Wandle!” exclaimed Marcella, frowning.  “Oh, please come with me, dear Lady Winterbourne!  I know he is asking Aldous to introduce him, and I won’t—­no I will not—­be introduced to him.”

And laying hold of her astonished companion, she drew her hastily through a doorway near, walked quickly, still gripping her, through two connected rooms beyond, and finally landed her and herself on a sofa in Lord Maxwell’s library, pursued meanwhile through all her hurried course by the curious looks of an observant throng.

“That man!—­no, that would really have been too much!” said Marcella, using her large feather fan with stormy energy.

“What is the matter with you, my dear?” said Lady Winterbourne in her amazement; “and what is the matter with Lord Wandle?”

“You must know!” said Marcella, indignantly.  “Oh, you must have seen that case in the paper last week—­that shocking case!  A woman and two children died in one of his cottages of blood-poisoning—­nothing in the world but his neglect—­his brutal neglect!” Her breast heaved; she seemed almost on the point of weeping.  “The agent was appealed to—­did nothing.  Then the clergyman wrote to him direct, and got an answer.  The answer was published.  For cruel insolence I never saw anything like it!  He ought to be in prison for manslaughter—­and he comes here!  And people laugh and talk with him!”

She stopped, almost choked by her own passion.  But the incident, after all, was only the spark to the mine.

Lady Winterbourne stared at her helplessly.

“Perhaps it isn’t true,” she suggested.  “The newspapers put in so many lies, especially about us—­the landlords.  Edward says one ought never to believe them.  Ah, here comes Aldous.”

Aldous, indeed, with some perplexity on his brow, was to be seen approaching, looking for his betrothed.  Marcella dropped her fan and sat erect, her angry colour fading into whiteness.

“My darling!  I couldn’t think what had become of you.  May I bring Lord Wandle and introduce him to you?  He is an old friend here, and my godfather.  Not that I am particularly proud of the relationship,” he said, dropping his voice as he stooped over her.  “He is a soured, disagreeable fellow, and I hate many of the things he does.  But it is an old tie, and my grandfather is tender of such things.  Only a word or two; then I will get rid of him.”

“Aldous, I can’t,” said Marcella, looking up at him.  “How could I?  I saw that case.  I must be rude to him.”

Aldous looked considerably disturbed.