“I know not. You will stay to dinner, Tracy?”
“Thank you. I shall be charmed.”
“Yes, yes—oh, how prodigiously pleasant it is to see you again! Soon I shall come to Andover. Will you let me stay a few days?”
“The question is, will Richard allow you to stay so long in my contaminating presence?”
“Richard would never keep me away, Tracy!” she replied proudly. “He could not. Oh, why is it that I don’t love him more? Why do I not care for him as much as I care for you even?”
“My dear Lavinia, like all Belmanoirs, you care first for yourself and secondly for the man who masters you. That, alas! Richard has not yet succeeded in doing.”
“But I do love Richard. I do, I do, yet—”
“Exactly. ‘Yet!’ The ‘grand passion’ has not yet touched you, my dear, and you are quite self-absorbed.”
“Self-absorbed! Those are hard words.”
“But not too hard for the case. You think solely of yourself, your own pleasure, your own character, your own feelings. If you could cast yourself into the background a little, you would be less excitable and considerably less discontented.”
“How dare you, Tracy! Pray, what of you? Are you so selfless?”
“Not at all. I am precisely the same. I was merely suggesting that you might be happier an you could depose ‘self.’ ”
“You had best do the same yourself!”
“My dear Lavinia, when I feel the need of greater happiness, I most undoubtedly shall. At present I am quite content.”
“You are unkind!” she protested. “And you sneer at me.”
“Pray, accept my heartfelt apologies! You shall come to Andover if the worthy Richard permits.”
Her face cleared as by magic.
“Oh, Tracy! Oh, I am so desirous to be gay once more! I cannot even receive now, on account of this mourning! But when I am at Andover—oh, we will not worry over anything, and I can be bad-tempered without feeling that someone is being hurt by me! Oh, come to Dicky at once—at once!”
He rose leisurely.
“I can imagine that you try Richard’s patience somewhat,” he remarked. “Happily, your impetuosity in no way disturbs me. We will go in search of Richard.”
Halfway down the great staircase she perceived her husband, and flew to meet him.
“Richard, I was coming in search of you! Tracy has invited me to Andover for a week—he purposes to ask several people to stay, and there will be parties—and entertainment! You will let me go? Say yes, Dicky—say yes, quickly!”
Carstares bowed to his Grace, who stood watching them from the stairs. The bow was returned with exaggerated flourish. Carstares looked down at his wife.
“So soon, Lavinia?” he remonstrated, and indicated her mourning. She shook his hand off impatiently.
“Oh, Dicky, does it matter? What can it signify? I do not ask you to come—”
“No,” he said half-sadly, half-amusedly. “I notice that, my dear.”
“No, no! I did not mean to be unkind—you must not think that! You don’t think it, do you, Dick?”
“Oh, no,” he sighed.
“Good Dicky!” She patted his cheek coaxingly. “Then you will allow me to go—ah, but yes, yes, you must listen! You know how dull I am, and how silly—’tis because I need a change, and I want to go to Andover. I want to go!”
“Yes, dear, I know. But my father is not yet dead six weeks, and I cannot think it seemly—”
“Please, Dick, please! Please do not say no! ’Twill make me so unhappy! Oh, you will not be so unkind? You will not forbid me to go?”
“I ask you not to, Lavinia. If you need a change, I will take you quietly to Bath, or where you will. Do not pain me by going to Andover just now.”
“Bath! Bath! What do I want with Bath at this time of the year? Oh, ’tis kind in you to offer, but I want to go to Andover! I want to see all the old friends again. And I want to get away from everything here—’tis all so gloomy—after—after my lord’s death!”
“Dearest, of course you shall go away—but if only you would remember that you are in mourning—”
“But ’tis what I wish to forget! Oh, Dicky, don’t, don’t, don’t be unkind.”
“Very well, dear. If you must go—go.”
She clapped her hands joyfully.
“Oh thank you, Dicky! And you are not angry with me?”
“No, dear, of course not.”
“Ah! Now I am happy! ’Tis sweet of you, Dicky, but confess you are secretly thankful to be rid of me for a week! Now are you not?” She spread out her fan in the highest good-humour and coquetted behind it. Richard was induced to smile.
“I fear I shall miss you too sadly, dear.”
“Oh!” She dropped the fan. “But think how you will look forward to seeing me again, and I you. Why, I shall be so thankful to be back after a week away, that I shall be good for months!”
His face lightened, and he caught her hands in his.
“Darling, if I thought you would miss me—”
“But of course I shall miss you, Dick—oh, pray, mind my frock! Shall I not miss him, Tracy?”
Richard suddenly remembered his brother-in-law’s presence. He turned and went to the foot of the stairs.
“So you are determined to wrest my wife from me?” he smiled.
Tracy descended leisurely, opening his snuffbox.
“Yes, I require a hostess,” he said. “And I have”—he paused—“induced her to honour Andover with her presence. Shall we have the felicity of seeing you at any time?”
“I thank you, no. I am not, you will understand, in the mood for the gaiety for which my poor Lavinia craves.”
The Duke bowed slightly, and they all three went out on to the terrace, Lavinia laughing and talking as Richard had not heard her laugh or talk for days. She was the life and soul of the little dinner-party, flirting prettily with her husband and exerting herself to please him in every way. She had won her point; therefore she was in excellent spirits with all the world, and not even the spilling of some wine on her new silk served to discompose her.
