‘She seems to have stepped out of a book of French memoirs,’ said her ladyship. ‘La vie galante et devote—voila la Comtesse.’
In contradistinction to the other ladies, she did not detest the Countess because she could not like her.
’Where ‘s the harm in her?’ she asked. ’She doesn’t damage the men, that I can see. And a person you can laugh at and with, is inexhaustible.’
‘And how long is she to stay here?’ Mrs. Shorne inquired. Mrs. Melville remarking: ‘Her visit appears to be inexhaustible.’
‘I suppose she’ll stay till the Election business is over,’ said Lady Jocelyn.
The Countess had just driven with Melville to Fallow field in Caroline’s black lace shawl.
‘Upwards of four weeks longer!’ Mrs. Melville interjected.
Lady Jocelyn chuckled.
Miss Carrington was present. She had been formerly sharp in her condemnation of the Countess—her affectedness, her euphuism, and her vulgarity. Now she did not say a word, though she might have done it with impunity.
‘I suppose, Emily, you see what Rose is about?’ said Mrs. Melville. ’I should not have thought it adviseable to have that young man here, myself. I think I let you know that.’
‘One young man’s as good as another,’ responded her ladyship. ’I ’ve my doubts of the one that’s much better. I fancy Rose is as good a judge by this time as you or I.’
Mrs. Melville made an effort or two to open Lady Jocelyn’s eyes, and then relapsed into the confident serenity inspired by evil prognostications.
‘But there really does seem some infatuation about these people!’ exclaimed Mrs. Shorne, turning to Miss Current. ’Can you understand it? The Duke, my dear! Things seem to be going on in the house, that really—and so openly.’
‘That’s one virtue,’ said Miss Current, with her imperturbable metallic voice, and face like a cold clear northern sky. ’Things done in secret throw on the outsiders the onus of raising a scandal.’
‘You don’t believe, then?’ suggested Mrs. Shorne.
Miss Current replied: ‘I always wait for a thing to happen first.’
‘But haven’t you seen, my dear?’
‘I never see anything, my dear.’
‘Then you must be blind, my dear.’
’On the contrary, that ‘s how I keep my sight, my dear.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ said Mrs. Shorne.
‘It’s a part of the science of optics, and requires study,’ said Miss Current.
Neither with the worldly nor the unworldly woman could the ladies do anything. But they were soon to have their triumph.