You may possibly remember a very small room in the galleries, exceedingly
small as compared with the rest, chiefly hung with English portraits.
They were in this room, amidst the little crowd that filled it, when Lord
Hartledon became aware that his wife had encountered some long-lost
friend. There was much greeting and shaking of hands. He caught the
name--Kattle; and being a somewhat singular name, he recognised it for
that of the lady who had been sojourning at Cannes, and had sent the news
of Miss Ashton's supposed engagement to the countess-dowager. There was
the usual babble on both sides--where each was staying, had been staying,
would be staying; and then Lord Hartledon heard the following words from
Mrs. Kattle.
"How strange I should have seen you! I have met you, the Fords, and the
Ashtons here, and did not know that any of you were in Paris. It's true
I only arrived yesterday. Such a long illness, my dear, I had at Turin!"
"The Ashtons!" involuntarily repeated Maude. "Are they here?--in the
chateau?" And it instantly occurred to her how she should like to meet
them, and parade her triumph. If ever a spark of feeling for her husband
arose within Maude's heart, it was when she thought of Anne Ashton. She
was bitterly jealous of her still.
"Yes, here; I saw them not three minutes ago. They are only now on their
road home from Cannes.
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