“Yes, he called me that.”

“He is so very hard to please.  The ordinary women, like Babykins and Cordelia Grenellen, don’t understand his subtle wit.  They are generally in love with him, though.  Cordelia was madly eprise last autumn; but he is as indifferent as possible, and does not trouble himself about any of them.  He is reported to have said once that it had taken him five years to degrade himself sufficiently to be able to enjoy the society of modern women.  He is a wonderful cynic!”

“The Duke gave me to understand that no man of the world was ever without some affair,” I said.

“Well, I suppose it is true more or less, but Antony is always the person who holds the cheek, hardly even complacently—­generally with perfect indifference.  I have never known him, for years, put himself out an inch for any woman.”

I don’t know why, but this conversation interested me deeply.

Just then some one came and joined us at the window, and Lady Tilchester had to rise and talk with her other guests; but before she moved off she put her hand on my arm and said, as if she had only then remembered it: 

“Oh, the housekeeper let me know just now that some soot had fallen in your chimney.  I do hope you won’t mind sleeping in a tiny bedroom off mine, just for to-night.  We were so afraid the smell would keep you awake.  Your maid has moved your things.”

Dear and kind lady!  I will never forget your goodness to me nor cease to love you.

* * * * *

It was pouring rain as we drove home next day.

Augustus and I only met as we were ready to get into the carriage.  I had breakfasted in my room.

His face was the color of putty, and he had that look in his eyes which, I remember, long ago I used to say appeared as if he had not had enough sleep.  His expression was sulky and morose, and I was thankful when at last we started.

The guests were catching all sorts of trains.  There were casual good-byes.  Lady Tilchester was not down, and no one occupied themselves much with any one.

Lady Grenellen left just before us.  She did not take the least notice of me, but she talked in a caressing way to Augustus, and I heard him say: 

“Now, you won’t forget!  It is a bargain!” in the most empresse voice, as he pulled his head out of the carriage-window.

For the first mile or two of our journey neither of us spoke.  Augustus lit a cigarette and smoked in a nervous way, and kept opening and shutting the window.

Then he swore at me.  I will not say the words he used, but the sentence ended with a demand why I sat there looking like a “stuck pig.”

I told him quietly that if he spoke to me like that I would not reply at all.

He got very angry and said he would have none of that nonsense; that I seemed to forget that I was his wife, and that he could do as he pleased with me.