She goes quickly up to her and slips her hand into hers.

“Don’t mind her,” says she.  “As if a little word here and there would count, when one has a good heart, and I know you have one.  We shall all go to heaven, I think, don’t you?  Don’t mind what she hinted about—­about that other place, you know.”

“Eh?” says Mrs. Chichester, staring at her as if astonished.

“I saw you didn’t like it,” says Tita.

“Well, I didn’t,” says Mrs. Chichester, pouting.

“No, of course, one wouldn’t.”

“One wouldn’t what?”

“Like to be told that one would have to go to—­you know.”

“Oh, I see,” says Mrs. Chichester, with some disgust.  “Is that what you mean?  Oh, I shouldn’t care a fig about that!”

“About what, then?” asks Tita anxiously.

“Well, I didn’t like to be called a woman!" says Mrs. Chichester, frowning.

“Oh!” says Tita.

“Lady Rylton, where are you?  You said you were going to get up blind man’s buff,” cries someone at this moment.

“Yes, yes, indeed.  Maurice, will you come and help us?” says Tita, seeing her husband, and going to him gladly, as a means of getting out of her ridiculous interview with Mrs. Chichester, which has begun to border on burlesque.

“Certainly,” says Sir Maurice; he speaks rapidly, eagerly, as if desirous of showing himself devoted to any project of hers.

“Well, then, come on—­come on,” cries she, gaily beckoning to her guests right and left, and carrying them off, a merry train, to the ball-room.

“Now, who’ll be blinded first?” asks Mr. Gower, who has evidently constituted himself Master of the Ceremonies.

“You!” cries Miss Hescott.

“Not at all.  There is only one fair way of arranging that,” says Tita.  “I’ll show you.  Now,” turning to her husband, “make them all catch hands, Maurice—­all in a ring, don’t you know—­and I’ll show you.”

They all catch hands; there is a slight tussle between Captain Marryatt and Mr. Gower (who is nothing if not a born nuisance wherever he goes), as to which of them is to take Mrs. Chichester’s right hand.  This, providentially, is arranged by Mr. Gower’s giving in, and consenting on a grimace from her to take her left hand.  Not that he wants it.  Tom Hescott has shown himself desirous of taking Tita’s small fingers into his possession for the time being, at all events—­a fact pointed out to Rylton by Mrs. Bethune with a low, amused little laugh; but Tita had told him to go away, as she couldn’t give her hand to anybody for a moment, as she was going to have the conduct of the affair.

“Now, are you all ready?” asks she, and seeing them standing in a circle, hands entwined, she runs suddenly to Maurice, disengages his hand from Mrs. Bethune’s with a little airy grace, gives her right hand to the latter, and the left to Maurice, and, having so joined the broken ring again, leans forward.