They
were in mourning still for his brother. Lord Hartledon had not left it
off, and Maude had loved him too well to grumble at the delay.
She had grown tolerant in regard to the intimacy with Mr. Carr. That her
husband should escape as soon and as favourably as possible out of the
dilemma in which he was plunged, she naturally wished; that he should
require legal advice and assistance to accomplish it, was only
reasonable, and therefore she tolerated the visits of Mr. Carr. She had
even gone so far one evening as to send tea in to them when he and Val
were closeted together.
But still Lady Hartledon was not quite prepared to find Mr. Carr at
their house when they returned. She and Lord Hartledon went forth to
the dinner; the latter behaving as though his wits were in some far-off
hemisphere rather than in this one, so absent-minded was he. From the
dinner they proceeded to another place or two; and on getting home,
towards one in the morning, there was the barrister.
"Mr. Carr is waiting to see you, my lord," said Hedges, meeting them in
the passage. "He is in the dining-room."
"Mr. Carr! Now!"
The hall-lamp shone full on his face as he spoke. He had been momentarily
forgetting care; was speaking gaily to his wife as they entered. She saw
the change that came over it; the look of fear, of apprehension, that
replaced its smile. He went into the dining-room, and she followed him.
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