CHAPTER XV
A New Cure for Headache
,_leaf.jpg)
“I wonder if General Sadgrove and Mr. Forsyth are lunatics?” Sybil Hanbury purred softly, after joining in the chorus of thanks which greeted a superb rendering of Strelezki’s “Arlequin” on the long disused grand piano in the tapestry-room. This apartment was more cozy and homelike than the vast white drawing-room at Beaumanoir House, but it was quite large enough for isolated conversations.
The uncomplimentary confidence was made into the shell-like ear of Mrs. Talmage Eglinton, who, faultlessly gowned by Worth, was sitting apart with her nominal hostess in the embrasure of an oriel window. The Duke was hovering near the piano, and Forsyth was talking to Mrs. Sadgrove and Mrs. Sherman. The General was not present, having excused himself from coming straight from the dining-room on the plea of having a letter to write.
Sybil’s disjointed remark—for it followed
[217]
