'According to what he told Hilary, she was the most fascinating woman in the world. Hilary thought so, too.'
Mrs. Hilary began to walk up and down.
'Oh, so Hilary helped to let him go, because they both?'
'Precisely,' said I.
'And you dare to come and tell me?'
'Well, I thought you ought to know,' said I. 'Hilary's just as mad about her as Johnny—in fact, he said he'd be hanged if he wouldn't have done the same himself.'
I have once seen Madame Ristori play Lady Macbeth. Her performance was recalled to me by the tones in which Mrs. Hilary asked,—
'Who is this woman, if you please, Mr. Carter?'
'So Hilary got him off—gave him fifty pounds too.'
'Glad to get him away, perhaps,' she burst out in angry scorn.
'Who knows?' says I. 'Perhaps.'
'Her name?' demanded Lady Macbeth—I mean Mrs. Hilary—again.
'I shan't tell you, unless you promise to say nothing to Hilary.'
'To say nothing! Well, really'
'Oh, all right!' and I took up my hat.
'But I can watch them, can't I?'
'As much as you like.'
'Won't you tell me?'
'If you promise.'
'Well, then, I promise.'
