He might have added that as Cliffe was supposed to desire an appointment under either the Foreign Office or the Colonial Office, it might have been thought to his interest to show himself more urbane than he had in fact shown himself that afternoon to the new Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs.  But Ashe rarely or never indulged himself in reflections of that kind.  Besides, he and Cliffe knew each other too well for posing.  There was a time when they had been on very friendly terms, and when Cliffe had been constantly in his mother’s drawing-room.  Lady Tranmore had a weakness for “influencing” young men of family and ability; and Cliffe, in fact, owed her a good deal.  Then she had seen cause to think ill of him; and, moreover, his travels had taken him to the other side of the world.  Ashe was now well aware that Cliffe reckoned on him as a hostile influence and would not try either to deceive or to propitiate him.

He thought Cliffe had been disagreeably surprised to see him that afternoon.  Perhaps it was the sudden sense of antagonism acting on the man’s excitable nature that had made him fling himself into the wild nonsense he had talked with Lady Kitty.

And thenceforward Ashe’s thoughts were possessed by Kitty only—­Kitty in her two aspects, of the morning and the afternoon.  He dressed in a reverie, and went down-stairs still dreaming.

* * * * *

At dinner he found himself responsible for Mary Lyster.  Kitty was on the other side of the table, widely separated both from himself and Cliffe.  She was in a little Empire dress of blue and silver, as extravagantly simple as her gown of the afternoon had been extravagantly elaborate.

Ashe observed the furtive study that the Grosville girls could not help bestowing upon her—­upon her shoulder-straps and long, bare arms, upon her high waist and the blue and silver bands in her hair.  Kitty herself sat in a pensive or proud silence.  The Dean was beside her, but she scarcely spoke to him, and as to the young man from the neighborhood who had taken her in, he was to her as though he were not.

“Has there been a row?” Ashe inquired, in a low voice, of his companion.

Mary looked at him quietly.

“Lord Grosville asked them not to play—­because of the servants.”

“Good!” said Ashe.  “The servants were, of course, playing cards in the house-keeper’s room.”

“Not at all.  They were singing hymns with Lady Grosville.”

Ashe looked incredulous.

“Only the slaveys and scullery maids that couldn’t help themselves.  Never mind.  Was Lady Kitty amenable?”

“She seems to have made Lord Grosville very angry.  Lady Grosville and I smoothed him down.”

“Did you?” said Ashe.  “That was nice of you.”

Mary colored a little, and did not reply.  Presently Ashe resumed.

“Aren’t you as sorry for her as I am?”