"I do not think ever anyone knew him and was not, sir. It was something in his manner, his personality--I cannot explain--that endeared him to one. And he once--aided me--when I was in difficulties."
Richard, remembering scraps of gossip concerning the widow's past, merely bowed his head.
She was silent for a time, staring down at her hands, but presently she looked up smiling, and took her fan away from him.
"I cannot abide a fidget, sir!" she told him. "And I see Lord Fotheringham approaching. I am promised to him this dance." She rose, but Richard detained her.
"Mrs. Fanshawe, will you permit me to call upon you? I would hear more of--your friend. You, mayhap, think it strange--but--"
"No," she answered. "I do not. Certainly call upon me, sir. I lodge in Mount Street with my sister--No. 16."
"Again, no. I have told you, I like a man to talk as a man and not as an affected woman. I shall be pleased to welcome you."
She curtsied and went away on the Viscount's arm.
At the same moment a voice at Richard's elbow drawled:
"Do I see you at the vivacious widow's feet, my good Dick?"
Carstares turned to face his brother-in-law, Colonel Belmanoir.
"Oh, no! Not since the beautiful Gunnings' arrival. But I admit she is a dainty piece. And Lavinia? Will she break her heart, I wonder?" He laughed beneath his breath as he saw Richard's eyes flash.
"I trust not," replied Carstares. "Are you all here to-night?"
"Our illustrious head is absent, I believe. Andrew is flirting with the Fletcher girl in the Blue Salon; I am here, and Lavinia is amusing herself with Lovelace. Yes, Richard, Lovelace! Be careful!" With another sneering laugh he walked on, bowing to Elizabeth Gunning, who passed by on the arm of her partner, his Grace of Hamilton, most palpably _épris_.
At that moment two late-comers entered the room and made their way towards their hostess, who appeared delighted to see them, especially the taller of the two, whose hand she slapped with good-humoured raillery. The shorter gentleman wore no mask, and the Colonel recognised Frank Fortescue. His eyes travelled to the other, who, unlike most of the men who only held their masks, had fastened his across his eyes, and they widened in surprise. The purple domino, worn carelessly open, revealed black satin encrusted with silver and diamonds. The natural hair was raven-black, the nostrils were pinched and the lips thin.
