That afternoon, in compliance with a particularly pressing request from Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, she accompanied a party of her guests to Badsworth, driving thither in Lord Charlemont's motor. Sir Morton Pippitt, red-faced and pompous as usual, met them at the door, in all the resplendency of new grey summer tweeds and prominent white waist-coat, his clean-shaven features shining with recent soap, and his white hair glistening like silver. He was quite in his element, as he handed out the beautiful Lady Beaulyon from the motor-car, and expressed his admiration for her looks in no unmeasured terms,--he felt himself to be almost an actual Badsworth, of Badsworth Hall, as he patted Lord Charlemont familiarly on the shoulder, and called him 'My dear boy!' As he greeted Maryllia, he smiled at her knowingly.

"I think I have a friend of yours here to-day, my dear lady!" he said with an expressive chuckle--"Someone who is most anxious to see you!" And escorting her with obtrusive gallantry into the hall, he brought her face to face with a tall, elegant, languid-looking man who bowed profoundly; "I believe you know Lord Roxmouth?"

The blood sprang to her brows,--and for a moment she was so startled and angry that she could scarcely breathe. A swift glance from under her long lashes showed her the situation--how Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay was watching her with ill-concealed amusement, and how all the rest of the party were expectant of a 'sensation.' She saw it all in a moment,--she recognised that a trap had been laid for her to fall into unwarily, and realising the position she rose to it at once.

"How do you do!" she said carelessly, nodding ner head without giving her hand--"I thought I should meet you this afternoon!"

"Did you really!" murmured Roxmouth--"Some magnetic current of thought---"

"Yes,--'by the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes!'--THAT sort of sensation, you know!" and she laughed; then perceiving a man standing in the background whose sleek form and lineaments she instantly recognised, she added--"And how are you, Mr. Longford? Did you bring Lord Roxmouth here, or did he bring you?"

Marius Longford, 'of the Savage and Savile,' was taken by surprise, and looked a little uncomfortable. He stroked one pussy whisker.

"We came together," he explained in his affected falsetto voice-- "Sir Morton Pippitt was good enough to invite me to bring any friend,--and so--"

"I see!" and Maryllia lifted her little head with an unconscious gesture, implying pride, or disdain, or both, as she passed with the other guests into the Badsworth Hall drawing-room; "The country is so delightful at this time of year!"




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