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Lavinia, who had by now quite forgotten the morning's _contretemps_,greeted him with a smile. She sat before the mirror in her under-gown,with a loose _deshabille_ thrown over her shoulders. The _coiffeur_ haddeparted, and her hair, thickly powdered, was dressed high above herhead over cushions, twisted into curls over her ears and allowed to fallin more curls over her shoulders. On top of the creation were poisedostrich feathers, scarlet and white, and round her throat gleamed agreat necklet of diamonds. The room was redolent of some heavy perfume;discarded ribbons, laces, slippers and gloves strewed the floor; overthe back of a chair hung a brilliant scarlet domino, and tenderly laidout on the bed was her gown, a mass of white satin and brocade, withfull ruffles over the hips and quantities of foaming lace falling fromthe corsage and from the short sleeves. Beside it reposed her fan, hersoft lace gloves, her mask and her tiny reticule.
Carstares gingerly sat down on the extreme edge of a chair and watchedthe maid tint his wife's already perfect cheeks.
"I shall break hearts to-night, shall I not?" she asked gaily, over hershoulder.
"I do not doubt it," he answered shortly.
"And you, Dicky?" She turned round to look at him. "Puce... 'tis not thecolour I should have chosen, but 'tis well enough. A new wig, surely?"
"Ay."
Her eyes questioned his coldness, and she suddenly remembered the eventsof the morning. So he was sulky? Very well! Monsieur should see!
Someone knocked at the door; the maid went to open it.
"Sir Douglas Faversham, Sir Gregory Markham, Moosso le Chevalier andCaptain Lovelace are below, m'lady."
A little devil prompted Lavinia.
"Oh, la-la! So many? Well, I cannot see all, 'tis certain. Admit SirGregory and Captain Lovelace."
Louisa communicated this to the lackey and shut the door.
Richard bit his lip angrily.
"Are you sure I am not _de trop_?" he asked, savagely sarcastic.
Lady Lavinia cast aside her _deshabille_ and stood up.
"Oh, 'tis no matter--I am ready for my gown, Louisa."
There came more knocking at the door, and this time it was Carstares whorose to open it.
There entered Markham, heavily handsome in crimson and gold, andLovelace, his opposite, f
air and delicately pretty in palest blue andsilver. As usual, he wore his loose wig, and in it sparkled threesapphire pins.
He made my lady a marvellous leg.
"I am prostrated by your beauty, fairest!"
Sir Gregory was eyeing Lavinia's white slippers through his quizzingglass.
"Jewelled heels, 'pon my soul!" he drawled.
She pirouetted gracefully, her feet flashing as they caught the light.
"Was it not well thought on?" she demanded. "But I must not wastetime--the dress! Now, Markham--now Harry--you will see the creation!"
Lovelace sat down on a chair, straddle-wise, his arms over the back, andhis chin sunk in his hands. Markham leant against the _garde-robe_ andwatched through his glass.
When the dress was at last arranged, the suggested improvements in thematter of lace, ribbons, and the adjustment of a brooch thoroughlydiscussed, bracelets fixed on her arms and the flaming domino drapedabout her, it was full three-quarters of an hour later, and Carstareswas becoming impatient. It was not in his nature to join with the twomen in making fulsome compliments, and their presence at the toilettefilled him with annoyance. He hated that Lavinia should admit them, butit was the _mode_, and he knew he must bow the head under it.
My lady was at last ready to start; her gilded chair awaited her in thelight of the _flambeaux_ at the door, and with great difficulty shemanaged to enter it, taking absurd pains that her silks should notcrush, nor the nodding plumes of her huge head-dress become disorderedby unseemly contact with the roof. Then she found that she had left herfan in her room, and Lovelace and Markham must needs vie with oneanother in the fetching of it. While they wrangled wittily for thehonour, Richard went quietly indoors and presently emerged with thepainted chicken-skin, just as Lovelace was preparing to ascend thesteps. At last Lavinia was shut in and the bearers picked up the poles.Off went the little cavalcade down the long square, the chair in themiddle. Lovelace walked close beside it on the right, and Richard andMarkham on the left. So they proceeded through the uneven streets,carefully picking their way through the dirtier parts, passing otherchairs and pedestrians, all coming from various quarters into SouthAudley Street. They were remarkably silent: Markham from habituallaziness, Lovelace because he sensed Richard's antagonism, and Richardhimself on account of his extremely worried state of mind. In fact,until they reached Curzon Street no one spoke, and then it was onlyMarkham, who, glancing behind him at the shuttered windows of the greatcorner house, casually remarked that Chesterfield was still at Wells. Anabsent assent came from Carstares, and the conversation came to an end.
In Clarges Street they were joined by Sir John Fortescue, an austerepatrician, and although some years his senior, a close friend ofRichard's. They fell behind the chair, and Fortescue took Richard'sproffered arm.
"I did not see you at White's to-day, John?"
