Diana bowed calmly.  ’I grieve at his condition.  His proposal has already been made and replied to.’

’Oh, but, Mrs. Warwick, an immediate and decisive refusal of a proposal so fraught with consequences . . . !’

’Ah, but, Lady Wathin, you are now outstepping the limits prescribed by the office you have undertaken.’

‘You will not lend ear to an intercession?’

‘I will not.’

’Of course, Mrs. Warwick, it is not for me to hint at things that lawyers could say on the subject.’

‘Your forbearance is creditable, Lady Wathin.’

’Believe me, Mrs. Warwick, the step is—­I speak in my husband’s name as well as my own—­strongly to be advised.’

‘If I hear one word more of it, I leave the country.’

’I should be sorry indeed at any piece of rashness depriving your numerous friends of your society.  We have recently become acquainted with Mr. Redworth, and I know the loss you would be to them.  I have not attempted an appeal to your feelings, Mrs. Warwick.’

‘I thank you warmly, Lady Wathin, for what you have not done.’

The aristocratic airs of Mrs. Warwick were annoying to Lady Wathin when she considered that they were borrowed, and that a pattern morality could regard the woman as ostracized:  nor was it agreeable to be looked at through eyelashes under partially lifted brows.  She had come to appeal to the feelings of the wife; at any rate, to discover if she had some and was better than a wild adventuress.

‘Our life below is short!’ she said.  To which Diana tacitly assented.

‘We have our little term, Mrs. Warwick.  It is soon over.’

‘On the other hand, the platitudes concerning it are eternal.’

Lady Wathin closed her eyes, that the like effect might be produced on her ears.  ’Ah! they are the truths.  But it is not my business to preach.  Permit me to say that I feel deeply for your husband.’

‘I am glad of Mr. Warwick’s having friends; and they are many, I hope.’

‘They cannot behold him perishing, without an effort on his behalf.’

A chasm of silence intervened.  Wifely pity was not sounded in it.

‘He will question me, Mrs. Warwick.’

‘You can report to him the heads of our conversation, Lady Wathin.’

’Would you—­it is your husband’s most earnest wish; and our house is open to his wife and to him for the purpose; and it seems to us that . . . indeed it might avert a catastrophe you would necessarily deplore:—­would you consent to meet him at my house?’

‘It has already been asked, Lady Wathin, and refused.’

‘But at my house-under our auspices!’

Diana glanced at the clock.  ‘Nowhere.’

‘Is it not—­pardon me—­a wife’s duty, Mrs. Warwick, at least to listen?’

‘Lady Wathin, I have listened to you.’

’In the case of his extreme generosity so putting it, for the present, Mrs. Warwick, that he asks only to be heard personally by his wife!  It may preclude so much.’