A short laugh from Mount Dunstan.

“Jane and I have gone to every garden party within twenty miles, ever since we left the schoolroom.  And we are very tired of them.  But this year we have quite cheered up.  When we are dressing to go to something dull, we say to each other, ’Well, at any rate, Miss Vanderpoel will be there, and we shall see what she has on, and how her things are made,’ and that’s something—­besides the fun of watching people make up to her, and hearing them talk about the men who want to marry her, and wonder which one she will take.  She will not take anyone in this place,” the nice turned-up nose slightly suggesting a derisive sniff.  “Who is there who is suitable?”

Mount Dunstan laughed shortly again.

“How do you know I am not an aspirant myself?” he said.  He had a mirthless sense of enjoyment in his own brazenness.  Only he himself knew how brazen the speech was.

Lady Mary looked at him with entire composure.

“I am quite sure you are not an aspirant for anybody.  And I happen to know that you dislike moneyed international marriages.  You are so obviously British that, even if I had not been told that, I should know it was true.  Miss Vanderpoel herself knows it is true.”

“Does she?”

“Lady Alanby spoke of it to Sir Nigel, and I heard Sir Nigel tell her.”

“Exactly the kind of unnecessary thing he would be likely to repeat.”  He cast the subject aside as if it were a worthless superfluity and went on:  “When you say there is no one suitable, you surely forget Lord Westholt.”

“Yes, it’s true I forgot him for the moment.  But—­” with a laugh—­“one rather feels as if she would require a royal duke or something of that sort.”

“You think she expects that kind of thing?” rather indifferently.

“She?  She doesn’t think of the subject.  She simply thinks of other things—­of Lady Anstruthers and Ughtred, of the work at Stornham and the village life, which gives her new emotions and interest.  She also thinks about being nice to people.  She is nicer than any girl I know.”

“You feel, however, she has a right to expect it?” still without more than a casual air of interest.

“Well, what do you feel yourself?” said Lady Mary.  “Women who look like that—­even when they are not millionairesses—­usually marry whom they choose.  I do not believe that the two beautiful Miss Gunnings rolled into one would have made anything as undeniable as she is.  One has seen portraits of them.  Look at her as she stands there talking to Tommy and Lord Dunholm!”

Internally Mount Dunstan was saying:  “I am looking at her, thank you,” and setting his teeth a little.

But Lady Mary was launched upon a subject which swept her along with it, and she—­so to speak—­ground the thing in.

“Look at the turn of her head!  Look at her mouth and chin, and her eyes with the lashes sweeping over them when she looks down!  You must have noticed the effect when she lifts them suddenly to look at you.  It’s so odd and lovely that it—­it almost——­”