"I will," she promised. "Oh, but we shall do famously! How pleased Miles will be! By the way," she continued, airily, "I asked the Miss Beauleighs to honour us on Wednesday, but, unfortunately, they could not. Still, perhaps some other d--"
She stopped, a little frightened, for he was standing before her, gripping her shoulders in a very elder-brotherly fashion.
"Listen to me, Molly. I know that you have discovered that I love Diana, and I know that you think to be very kind and to bring us together. But I tell you that 'twill not be kind at all, only very cruel to us both. If you worry her to come here, I must go. Do you see?"
Molly looked into the stern eyes, and her lip trembled.
"'Tis nothing to be sorry about; and, indeed, I am very grateful to you for trying to make me happy. But please do not!"
"No, I promise I will not. But--but do you think you are being quite fair to--"
"Molly, tell me this: do you think you are being quite good to disobey your husband?"
The blue eyes were dancing. She smiled doubtfully.
"Do you tell me that Miles did not expressly forbid you to mention this subject to me?"
She pulled her hand away, her mouth forming a soundless
"Well--well--well, how horrid of you!" she cried, and shook her fist at him. "I'm going now!"
Later, she found her husband in the library, and ran into his arms.
"Do you mind holding me tightly?" she asked. "I've--I've been put in the corner!"
"Yes--figuratively--by Jack. I think, perhaps, I shouldn't like to marry him after all!"
"N-nothing. I'm _afraid_," polishing one of his buttons with an assiduous finger, "I'm _afraid_ that it was rather my own fault!"
"Yes--but I only said _very_ little about the Miss Beauleighs, and he suddenly turned into an iceberg and made me feel like a naughty little girl. But he is going to stay, all the same; so kiss me, Miles!"
At the end of August, after having spent a moderately quiet summer in the country, Lady Lavinia was again seized with a longing for town and its attractions. She would not listen to Richard's warnings of the atrocious condition of the roads, declaring that she cared not one jot, and go to London she must. After that one protest he desisted, and promised to take her there the following week, secretly counting himself lucky to have kept her so long at Wyncham in comparative cheerfulness of spirits. Lavinia was overjoyed, kissed him again and again, scolded herself for being such a wicked tease, and set about making her preparations for the journey.