No doubt
was implied or expressed; the marriage was set forth as an assured fact.
"And I believe you meant to wait for her?" said the countess-dowager, as
she put the letter into his hand, with a little laugh. "You are free now
for my darling Maude."
"This may not be true," observed Lord Hartledon, with compressed lips.
"Every one knows what this sort of gossip is worth."
"I happen to know that it is true," spoke Lady Kirton, in a whisper. "I
have known of it for some time past, but would not vex you with it."
Well, she convinced him; and from that moment had it all her own way, and
carried out her plots and plans according to her own crafty fancy. Lord
Hartledon yielded; for the ascendency of Maude was strong upon him. And
yet--and yet--whilst he gave all sorts of hard names to Anne Ashton's
perfidy, lying down deep in his heart was a suspicion that the news was
not true. How he hated himself for his wicked assumption of belief in
after-years!
"You will be free as air," said the dowager, joyously. "You and Maude
shall get ahead of Miss Ashton and her colonel, and have the laugh at
them. The marriage shall be on Saturday, and you can go away together for
months if you like, and get up your spirits again; I'm sure you have both
been dull enough."
Lord Hartledon was certainly caught by the words "free as air;" as he had
been once before.
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