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  ‘Yes,’ he admitted coolly. ‘’Tis for that reason that she now avoids them.’

  ‘Oh, Tracy, the poor child!’ exclaimed his sister in a sudden fit of pity. ‘How can you persecute her, if she dislikes you?’

  ‘She does not.’

  ‘Not! Then –’

  ‘Rather, she fears me. But she is intrigued, for all that. I persecute her, as you call it, for her own (and my) ultimate good. But they quit Bath in a few days, and then, nous verrons!’ He rose. ‘What of Honest Dick?’

  ‘Don’t call him by that odious name! I will not have it!’

  ‘Odious, my dear? Odious? You would have reason an I called him Dishonest Dick.’

  ‘Don’t! Don’t!’ she cried, covering her ears.

  His Grace laughed softly.

  ‘Oh, Lavinia, you must get the better of these megrims of yours, for there is nought that sickens a man sooner, believe me.’

  ‘Oh, go away! – go away!’ she implored. ‘You tease me and tease me until I cannot bear it, and indeed I do not mean to be shrewish! Please go!’

  ‘I am on the point of doing so, my dear. I trust you will have in a measure recovered when next I see you. Pray bear my respects to Hon – to the Honourable Richard.’

  She stretched out her hand.

  ‘Come again soon!’ she begged. ‘I shall be better tomorrow! ’Tis only to-day that my head aches till I could shriek with the worry and the pain of it! Come again!’

  ‘Unfortunately I anticipate leaving Bath within a day or two. But nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to comply with your wishes.’ He kissed her hand punctiliously, and took his leave. At the door he paused, and looked back mockingly. ‘By the way – her name is – Diana.’ He bowed again and swept out, as Lavinia buried her face in the cushions and burst into tears.

  It was thus that Richard found her, twenty minutes later and his concern was so great that it in part restored her spirits, and she spent a quiet and, for him, blissful evening, playing at piquet.

  In the middle of a game she suddenly flung down her hand and caught at his wrist.

  ‘Dicky, Dicky – I will go home!’

  ‘Go home? What do you mean? Not –’

  ‘Yes, yes – Wyncham! Why not?’

  ‘My dear, do you mean it?’ His voice quivered with joyful surprise, and the cards slipped from his hands.

  ‘Yes, I mean it! But take me quickly before I change my mind! I can sleep at Wyncham, and here I lie awake all night, and my head aches. Take me home and I will try to be a better wife! Oh, Dicky, have I been tiresome and exacting? I did not mean to be! Why do you let me?’ She came quickly round the table and knelt at his side, giving no heed to the crumpling of her billowing silks. ‘I have been a wicked, selfish woman!’ she said vehemently. ‘But indeed I will be better. You must not let me be bad – you must not, I tell you!’

  He flung his arm about her plump shoulders and drew her tightly to him.

  ‘When I get you home at Wyncham, I promise you I will finely hector you, sweetheart,’ he said, laughing to conceal his deeper feelings. ‘I shall make you into a capital housewife!’

  ‘And I will learn to make butter,’ she nodded. ‘Then I must wear a dimity gown with a muslin apron and cap. Oh, yes, yes – a dimity gown!’ She sprang up and danced to the middle of the room. ‘Shall I not be charming, Richard?’

  ‘Very charming, Lavinia!’

  ‘Of course! Oh, we will go home at once – at once! But first I must procure some new gowns from Marguérite!’

  ‘To make butter in, dear?’ he protested.

  She was not attending.

  ‘A dimity gown – or shall it be of tiffany with a quilted petticoat? Or both?’ she chanted. ‘Dicky, I shall set a fashion in country toilettes!’

  Dicky sighed.

  Seven

  Introducing Sundry New Characters

  Not twenty minutes’ walk from Lady Lavinia’s house in Queen Square resided a certain Madam Thompson – a widow – who had lived in Bath for nearly fifteen years. With her was staying Miss Elizabeth Beauleigh and her niece, Diana. Madam Thompson had been at a seminary with Miss Elizabeth when both were girls, and they had ever afterwards kept up their friendship, occasionally visiting one another, but more often contenting themselves with the writing of lengthy epistles, full of unimportant scraps of news and much gossip, amusing only on Miss Elizabeth’s side, and on the widow’s uninteresting and rambling.

  It was a great joy to Madam Thompson when she received a letter from Miss Beauleigh begging that she and her niece might be allowed to pay a visit to her house in Bath, and to stay at least three weeks. The good lady was delighted at having her standing invitation at last accepted, and straight-way wrote back a glad assent. She prepared her very best bedchamber for Miss Beauleigh, who, she understood, was coming to Bath principally for a change of air and scene after a long and rather trying illness.

  In due course the two ladies arrived, the elder very small and thin, and birdlike in her movements; the younger moderately tall, and graceful as a willow tree, with great candid brown eyes that looked fearlessly out on to the world, and a tragic mouth that belied a usually cheerful disposition, and hinted at a tendency to look on the gloomy side of life.

  Madam Thompson, whose first meeting with Diana this was, remarked on the sad mouth to Miss Elizabeth, or Betty as she was more often called, as they sat over the fire on the first night, Diana herself having retired to her room.

  Miss Betty shook her head darkly and prophesied that her precious Di would one day love some man as no man in her opinion deserved to be loved!

  ‘And she’ll have love badly,’ she said, clicking her knitting-needles energetically. ‘I know these temperamental children!’

  ‘She looks so melancholy,’ ventured the widow.

  ‘Well there you are wrong!’ replied Miss Betty. ‘’Tis the sunniest-tempered child, and the sweetest-natured in the whole wide world, bless her! But I don’t deny that she can be miserable. Far from it. I’ve known her weep her pretty eyes out over a dead puppy even! But usually she is gay enough.’

  ‘I fear this house will be dull and stupid for her,’ said Madam Thompson regretfully. ‘If only my dear son George were at home to entertain her –’

  ‘My love, pray do not put yourself out! I assure you Diana will not at all object to a little quiet after the life she has been leading in town this winter with her friend’s family.’

  Whatever Diana thought of the quiet, she at least made no complaint, and adapted herself to her surroundings quite contentedly.

  In the morning they would all walk as far as the Assembly Rooms, and Miss Betty would drink the waters in the old Pump Room, pacing sedately up and down with her friend on one side and her niece on the other. Madame Thompson had very few acquaintances in Bath, and the people she did know were all of her own age and habits, rarely venturing as far as the crowded fashionable quarter; so Diana had to be content with the society of the two old ladies, who gossiped happily enough together, but whose conversation she could not but find singularly uninteresting.

  She watched the monde with concealed wistfulness, seeing Beau Nash strut about among the ladies, bowing with his extreme gallantry, always impeccably garbed, and in spite of his rapidly increasing age and bulk still absolute monarch of Bath. She saw fine painted madams in enormous hoops, and with their hair so extravagantly curled and powdered that it appeared quite grotesque, mincing along with their various cavaliers; elderly beaux with coats padded to hide their shrunken shoulders, and paint to fill the wrinkles on their faces; young rakes; stout dowagers with their demure daughters; old ladies who had come to Bath for their health’s sake; titled folk of fashion, and plain gentry from the country – all parading before her eyes.

  One or two young bucks tried to ogle her, and received such indignant glances from those cl