But still Lady Hartledon was not quite prepared to find Mr. Carr at their house when they returned.  She and Lord Hartledon went forth to the dinner; the latter behaving as though his wits were in some far-off hemisphere rather than in this one, so absent-minded was he.  From the dinner they proceeded to another place or two; and on getting home, towards one in the morning, there was the barrister.

“Mr. Carr is waiting to see you, my lord,” said Hedges, meeting them in the passage.  “He is in the dining-room.”

“Mr. Carr!  Now!”

The hall-lamp shone full on his face as he spoke.  He had been momentarily forgetting care; was speaking gaily to his wife as they entered.  She saw the change that came over it; the look of fear, of apprehension, that replaced its smile.  He went into the dining-room, and she followed him.

“Why, Carr!” he exclaimed.  “Is it you?”

Mr. Carr, bowing to Lady Hartledon, made a joke of the matter.  “Having waited so long, I thought I’d wait it out, Hartledon.  As good be hung for a sheep as a lamb, you know, and I have no wife sitting up for me at home.”

“You had my message?”

“Yes, and that brought me here.  I wanted just to say a word to you, as I am going out of town to-morrow.”

“What will you take?”

“Nothing at all.  Hedges has been making me munificent offers, but I declined them.  I never take anything after dinner, except a cup of tea or so, as you may remember, keeping a clear head for work in the morning.”

There was a slight pause.  Lady Hartledon saw of course that she was de trop in the conference; that Mr. Carr would not speak his “word” whilst she was present.  She had never understood why the matter should be kept apart from her; and in her heart resented it.

“You won’t say to my husband before me what you have come to say, Mr. Carr.”

It was strictly the truth, but the abrupt manner of bringing it home to him momentarily took away Mr. Carr’s power of repartee, although he was apt enough in general, as became a special pleader.

“You have had news from the Ashtons; that is, of their cause, and you have come to tell it.  I don’t see why you and Lord Hartledon should so cautiously keep everything from me.”

There was an eager look on Lord Hartledon’s face as he stood behind his wife.  It was directed to Mr. Carr, and said as plainly as look could say, “Don’t undeceive her; keep up the delusion.”  But Thomas Carr was not so apt at keeping up delusions at the expense of truth, and he only smiled in reply.

“What damages are they suing for?”

“Oh,” said Mr. Carr, with a laugh, and ready enough now:  “ten thousand pounds will cover it.”

“Ten thousand pounds!” she echoed.  “Of course they won’t get half of it.  In this sort of action—­breach of promise—­parties never get so much as they ask for, do they?”

“Not often.”