"
Lady Medlincourt held out her hand, long and slim and delicate, and
made room for Virginia by her side on the sofa.
"How are you, my dear?" she said quite calmly. "Will you have some tea?
It's beastly, I know, been standing for hours, but Guy can ring for some
fresh. So you are really going to marry my nephew?"
Virginia raised her eyes, and looked for a moment into the face of the
woman who sat by her side.
"Yes, Lady Medlincourt," she answered; "I do hope you will not be
angry."
"Angry! My dear child, I am never angry," Lady Medlincourt declared. "I
have arrived at that time in life when one cannot afford the luxury of
giving way to emotion. You won't mind my asking you a few questions,
though, both of you. To begin with, I do not know your name. Who
are you?"
Guy leaned a little forward.
"She will be Duchess of Mowbray in a very short time, aunt," he said.
"Please don't forget that."
Lady Medlincourt raised her eyebrows.
"Bless the boy!" she exclaimed. "As though I were likely to! I can feel
it go shivering down my backbone all the time. Sit here for a moment,
both of you. I am going to give Jameson orders myself not to admit any
one for a little while.
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