“Where is Lucille?”

The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.

“How should I know?  She left when we did.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.  It was all understood, wasn’t it?”

Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.

“She has fooled us,” she said.  “Brott is here alone.  Knows nothing of her.”

The Duchess was puzzled.

“Well, I know nothing more than you do,” she answered.  “Are you sure the man is telling the truth?”

“Of course.  He is the image of despair.”

“I am sure she was in earnest,” the Duchess said.  “When I asked her whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said perhaps or something of that sort.”

“The fool may have bungled it,” Lady Carey said thoughtfully.  “I will go back to him.  There’s that idiot of a partner of mine.  I must go and pretend to have some supper.”

Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.  She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and rushed him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite.  He brought her to the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper alone.  Lady Carey went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had scarcely moved.

“Have you seen anything of her?” she asked.

He shook his head gloomily.

“No!  It is too late for her to come now, isn’t it?”

“Take me somewhere where we can talk,” she said abruptly.  “One of those seats in the recess will do.”

He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner.  Lady Carey wasted no time in fencing.

“I am Lucille’s greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,” she said.

He nodded.

“So I have understood.”

“She tells me everything.”

He glanced towards her a little uneasily.

“That is comprehensive!” he remarked.

“It is true,” she answered.  “Lucille has told me a great deal about your friendship!  Come, there is no use in our mincing words.  Lucille has been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any consolation she may find.  The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do not hold any longer amongst us.  It is not necessary to tie yourself for life to a man in order to procure a little diversion.”

“I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey,” he said gravely, “but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection with such matters.”

“Oh, come!” she declared impatiently; “remember that I am her friend.  Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn’t matter.  Now I am going to ask you a plain question.  Had you any engagement with Lucille to-night?”

She watched him mercilessly.  He was colouring like a boy.  Lady Carey’s thin lips curled.  She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.  Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.