All this she said in her peculiarly sweet silver voice, not speaking as though she were dismayed and beside herself, or in a hurry to get through a lesson which she had taught herself. She had her secret to hide, and had schooled herself how to hide it. But in so schooling herself she had been compelled to acknowledge to herself that the secret did exist. She had told herself that she must meet him, and that in meeting him she must hide it. This she had done with absolute success. Such is the peculiar power of women; and her mother, who had listened not only to every word, but to every tone of her voice, gave her exceeding credit.
'There's more in her than I thought there was,' said Sophia Furnival to herself, who had also listened and watched.
'It has not gone very deep with her,' said the judge, who on this matter was not so good a judge as Miss Furnival.
'She cares about me just as Mrs. Baker does,' said Graham to himself, who was the worst judge of them all. He muttered something quite unintelligible in answer to the kindness of her words; and then Madeline, having gone through her task, retired to the further side of the round table, and went to work among the teacups.
And then the conversation became general, turning altogether on the affairs of Lady Mason. It was declared as a fact by Lady Staveley that there was to be a marriage between Sir Peregrine Orme and his guest, and all in the room expressed their sorrow. The women were especially indignant. 'I have no patience with her,' said Mrs. Arbuthnot. 'She must know that such a marriage at his time of life must be ridiculous, and injurious to the whole family.'
The women were very indignant,—all except Miss Furnival, who did not say much, but endeavoured to palliate the crimes of Lady Mason in that which she did say. 'I do not know that she is more to blame than any other lady who marries a gentleman thirty years older than herself.'
'I do then,' said Lady Staveley, who delighted in contradicting Miss Furnival. 'And so would you too, my dear, if you had known Sir Peregrine as long as I have. And if—if—if—but it does not matter. I am very sorry for Lady Mason,—very. I think she is a woman cruelly used by her own connections; but my sympathies with her would be warmer if she had refrained from using her power over an old gentleman like Sir Peregrine, in the way she has done.' In all which expression of sentiment the reader will know that poor dear Lady Staveley was wrong from the beginning to the end.
'For my part,' said the judge, 'I don't see what else she was to do. If Sir Peregrine asked her, how could she refuse?'
'My dear!' said Lady Staveley.
