Part 13

“Impossible!”

“Mr. Carter!”

“I--er--mean he knows you too well to do such a thing.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you. Yes. What do you think?”

“What does the Dowager say?”

“I haven’t mentioned it to the Dowager.”

“But surely, on such a point, her experience--”

“She can’t have any,” said Lady Mickleham decisively. “I believe in her husband, because I must. But nobody else! You’re not giving me your opinion.”

I reflected for a moment.

“Haven’t we left out one point to view?” I ventured to suggest.

“I’ve thought it all over very carefully,” said she; “both as it would affect me and as it would affect Archie.”

“Quite so. Now suppose you think how it would affect them?”

“Who?”

“Why, the men.”

Lady Mickleham put down her cup of tea. “What a very curious idea!” she exclaimed.

“Give it time to sink in,” said I, helping myself to another piece of toast. She sat silent for a few moments--presumably to allow of the permeation I suggested. I finished my tea and leant back comfortably. Then I said:

“Let me take my own case. Shouldn’t I feel rather awkward--?”

“Oh, it’s no good taking your case,” she interrupted.

“Why not mine as well as another?”

“Because I told him about you long ago.”

I was not surprised. But I could not permit Lady Mickleham to laugh at me in the unconscionable manner in which she proceeded to laugh. I spread out my hands and observed blandly:

“Why not be guided--as to the others, I mean--by your husband’s example?”

“Archie’s example? What’s that?”

“I don’t know; but you do, I suppose.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Carter?” she asked, sitting upright.

“Well, has he ever told you about Maggie Adeane?”

“I never heard of her.”

“Or Lilly Courtenay?”