Bestowing a forgiving and perfectly enchanting smile upon him, Lady Denville said: “Well, then, having made me feel as if I were a gawky girl—which, I do assure you, Kit, I never was!—she became suddenly quite affable, and talked to me about you with amazing kindness! Which shows you how cunning she is! For even if she did make me feel as if I were a silly chit I don’t doubt she knew that if she had uttered one word in disparagement of either of my sons, I should—I should have slain her, and walked straight out of the room!”

On the broad grin, Mr Fancot interpolated: “Bravo!”

Lady Denville received this applause with becoming modesty. “Well, dearest, I should have been roused to fury, because nothing enrages me more than injustice! I may be a frivolous widgeon, but I am not so bird-witted that I don’t know that no one ever possessed two such sons as mine! However, Lady Stavely said nothing about you to which I could take exception. Then she told me that although she perfectly acknowledged that Evelyn is a catch of the first water, she had come to perceive that marriages between persons who are not—not thoroughly acquainted with each other don’t always lead to happiness. She said—not in the least exceptionably, but with true kindness!—that she was persuaded I must agree with her. Which I do, Kit! Then she confided to me that although she had wished very much to invite Cressy to live with her, when Stavely married Albinia Gillifoot—oh, Kit, she dislikes Albinia even more than I do! we had the most delightful cose about her!—she had not done so, because she is too old to take her to parties, and so what would become of Cressy when she dies? She said she would be obliged to live with Clara Stavely, and dwindle into an old maid. Which is why she wishes to see her suitably married. Then she said that she believed that, with all my faults, I was truly devoted to my children, and she was persuaded I must feel, as she does, that before coming to a decision Evelyn and Cressy ought to know one another better. Well, dearest, what could I do but agree with her? Especially when she told me that I must be the last person to wish to see my son make an unhappy marriage, for that was what I did myself. I must own, Kit, that I was very much touched!”

His pleasant gray eyes looked steadily down into hers, the suggestion of a smile in them. “Tell me, Mama, were you so unhappy?”

“Often!” she declared. “I have frequently fallen into fits of the most dreadful dejection, and if I were inclined to low-ness of spirit I daresay I should have sunk under the trials that beset me. Only I can never stay for long in the dismals, for something always seems to happen which makes me laugh. You may say that I’m volatile, if you choose, but I do think you should be glad of it, because there is nothing so dreary as ticklish women, behaving like watering-pots at the least provocation, and being for ever in the hips! And in any event my sensibilities have nothing to do with the case! The thing is that as soon as I agreed that it would be desirable for Evelyn and Cressy to become better acquainted Lady Stavely floored me by saying that since I had the intention of joining you here she thought it would be an excellent scheme if she were to bring Cressy on a visit. I hope I didn’t look no-how, but I fear I must have, for she asked, in that sharp way of hers, if I had any objection? Dearest, what could I say but that I thought it a delightful scheme, and only wondered that it hadn’t occurred to me? I may be volatile, but I am not rag-mannered!”

“Couldn’t you have made some excuse? Surely you must have been able to think of something, Mama?”

“I thought of several things, but they would none of them do. Indeed, I had almost said that one of the servants here had begun in the small-pox when it very fortunately struck me that if that had been so you wouldn’t have come to the house. And though I did think of saying that it was you who had the small-pox, I couldn’t but feel that it would be a shocking bore for you to be obliged to remain cooped up here for weeks and weeks—and we must remember, Kit, that Evelyn may come back at any moment! Well, you know what he is! We should never be able to persuade him to take your place in the small-pox.”

“Mama, why, in heaven’s name, small-pox? Scarlet fever in the village would have been much better, if you had to make illness the excuse!”

“Yes, but I couldn’t think of any other illness except the measles, and depend upon it Lady Stavely and Cressy have probably had them already.”

He began to pace up and down the floor, frowning heavily. After a pause, he said: “I shall have to go away—back to Vienna, where, indeed, I must go pretty soon!”

“Go away?” she cried, in the liveliest dismay. “You cannot do so, when the Stavelys are coming purposely to see you! It would be beyond anything!”

“It could be accounted for. I could be taken ill in Vienna, or suffer a serious accident—something very bad! No one would think it odd of Evelyn to go to me immediately!”

“Well, of all the hare-brained notions! Next you will say that no one would think it odd of me to remain in England under such circumstances!”

“Come with me!” he invited, pure mischief in his face.

It was reflected in hers. “Oh, how amusing it would be!” she said involuntarily. Then she shook her head. “No, we couldn’t do it, Kit. Only think what a hobble we should all be in when Evelyn came back! He wouldn’t know what had become of me, and he would be bound to search for me all over. That would fling the cat amongst the pigeons! Dearest, there is nothing for it but to make the best of it. And I must tell you that I have already done so—the best I could, at all events.”

“It won’t do, Mama, Cressy and I should be thrown together in a way that must inevitably lead to a degree of intimacy which on all counts is to be avoided. Good God,that’s why I left London—so that she should not become better acquainted with me!”

“Yes, and I perfectly understand how vexatious it is for you to be obliged to remain strictly upon your guard. But it won’t be as bad as you anticipate! By the most amazing stroke of fortune I found Cosmo waiting for me in Hill Street when I returned from visiting Lady Stavely!”

“Cosmo?” he repeated blankly.

“Yes, Kit: Cosmo!” replied her ladyship, in a tone of determined patience. “My brother Cosmo—your uncle Cosmo! Dearest, must you stand like a stock? You cannot have forgotten him!”

“No, of course I haven’t forgotten him! But why you should think it a stroke of fortune to have found him in Hill Street is a matter quite beyond my comprehension!”

“Now, that,” said his mama triumphantly, “shows that you are much more shatterbrained than I am! Because Cosmo is the very thing we need! And Emma, too, of course. My dear, he must have been sent by providence—which is a thing that frequently happens, I find, when one is in flat despair: like my recalling in the very nick of time, when I thought myself wholly ruined, that I might very well apply to Edgbaston for a loan. Naturally, when I was being driven home from Mount Street, I was racking my brain to think how, at this season, to assemble a party here, which I perceived was most necessary on your account, Kit: to save you from being thrown entirely into Cressy’s company. I couldn’t hit on anyone, except, of course, poor Bonamy, because even if there had been more time at my disposal—and one can’t invite people all in a quack, you know, unless they are relations, or very close friends—no one wants to be in the country during the summer! Unless one is the sort of person who wishes to go on a tour, to observe mountains, and gorges, and the beauties of nature, which is the most exhausting and uncomfortable thing imaginable, I do assure you Kit! I cannot describe to you the miseries I endured when your father made me accompany him to Scotland once. I dare say it was all very fine, but when one has been jolted over abominable roads, and forced to put up at the most primitive inns, besides having to walk for miles and miles, one is in no case to admire scenery.”

“Do I understand, Mama,” said Kit, in a failing voice, “that you have invited Cosmo, and my aunt, to come and stay at Ravenhurst?”

“To be sure I have!” she replied, with a brilliant smile. “And it was exactly what he hoped I should do! At least, I fancy he meant to wheedle me into inviting him to visit us in Brighton, but you know what a nip-cheese he is, Kit! if he can but contrive to live at rack and manger somewhere he is content! In general, he goes to Baverstock in the summer, but it seems that he cannot do so this year, because your Aunt Baverstock won’t have him. I must say, one can’t blame her for not wanting him and poor Emma to be running tame about the house for weeks on end, however detestable one may think her. I have always avoided inviting them myself, though not as rudely as Amelia. But in this instance they are the very persons we need! Only consider, dearest! We scarcely ever see them, so they won’t know you from Evelyn; and they play whist! For chicken-stakes, too, which will exactly suit Lady Stavely. So I told Cosmo he might come—I mean, I invited him and Emma to come, and I said that we should be delighted to welcome Ambrose as well. He may serve to entertain Cressy, perhaps.”

“I’ve nothing to say against having my uncle and aunt to stay: in fact, it’s a good notion, love; but the last time I saw my cousin Ambrose he was the most odious little bounce I ever met in my life!” said Kit, entering a most ungrateful caveat.