“Not our first quarrel by a great many,” she said, letting her hand rest for a moment on his arm. “But don’t call her names, Gerald: all alone in a hotel in London, in the middle of the season, without a creature to speak a word to her! And I heard she was perfectly alone all the winter at home. Lady Hartmore goes too far. She has made it a personal matter that nobody should call. Poor little Patty! Gerald----”
“Poor little Patty, indeed! who has cost us not only Greyshott, but how many thousand pounds; who has made you poor, Meg.”
“There is poor and poor. Poor in your way is not poor in mine. I am rich, whatever you may be. Is she still there--alone--Gerald, with that white little face?” Margaret had managed, furtively, to turn her head, still under shadow of the waiter, and get a glimpse of their supplanter.
“What does it matter if her face is white or not? She has chalked it, perhaps, as she might rouge it on another occasion, to play her part.”
“You have no pity,” said Margaret; “to me it is very sad to see a poor woman like that alone, trying to enjoy herself. I think, Gerald, I will----”
“Will what? You are capable of anything, Meg. I shall not be surprised at whatever you propose.”
“Well, since you have so poor an opinion of me,” she said with a smile, “I think I’ll speak to her, Gerald.”
“Do you remember that she turned you out of your home? that she insulted you so that it was with difficulty I kept my temper?”
“You never did keep your temper, dear,” said Margaret with gentle impartiality, shaking her head; “and,” she added with a smile, “you insulted me far worse than ever Patty did. Should I bear malice? I will say a word to her before we go.”
When they rose, and when Patty saw who they were, the chalk which Colonel Piercey thought she was capable of using to play her part, yielded to a crimson so hot and vivid that its truth and reality were thoroughly proved. She half rose, too, then sat down again more determinedly than before.
“Mrs. Piercey,” said Margaret, “we saw you, and I could not pass you without a word.”
“You are very kind, I am sure, Margaret Osborne; but you could have left your table very well without coming near me.”
“Yes, perhaps,” said Margaret; “I should have said that, seeing you alone----”