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remarks they separated, and Caroline was unusually silent on the way home. Mary was afraid the ride had tired her, and suggested she should go straight home instead of remaining for the rest of the day as they had planned, so that Caroline could rest.
“Oh, do not be concerned. I am completely better,” Caroline protested. “I was thinking, that is all.”
“But these headaches are getting worse, are they not?” Mary persisted anxiously.
“Yes, and I have had one or two severe ones lately,” Caroline admitted. “They are abominable at the time, but there are no effects the next day. Belinda is pretty, is she not?” she asked abruptly.
“I have not seen her often recently, only at your party, in fact. She has certainly changed from the schoolgirl she was.”
“Sir Ingram seemed impressed. He danced with her twice at the party.”
“He is obviously susceptible to feminine charms,” Mary replied tartly, and Caroline smiled to herself and changed the subject.
The following day they drove to Abbey Court, the home of the Ward family, to find a group of twenty or so assembled for the dinner party, mostly young people who were nearly all known to Mary. As she entered the parlour Mary glanced quickly round, and then hastily turned her head away as she saw Sir Ingram leaning over Belinda’s chair. Furious with herself for being concerned with his actions, she contrived to avoid him until they went into dinner, when she found herself seated beside him with Belinda on his other side.
“You appear cross,” he said softly to her as they sat down, and chuckled at her glance of annoyance. “It must be very provoking to have to be polite to me when you are longing to tell me what a monster you consider me. Teresa was voluble on the journey, and left me in no doubt as to what she had told you of her side of the story. How much did you believe?”
“I am sure she exaggerated somewhat,” Mary replied as coolly as she could, and he laughed again, and turned to reply to a remark of Belinda’s.
Scrupulously polite, he divided his attention between the two girls, but Mary, while conversing with her other neighbour, could not fail to be aware of how well he seemed to be getting on with Belinda.
Other people noticed it too, and there were many whispers to that effect when, dinner over, Mrs Ward arranged for dancing in one of her parlours, and Sir Ingram led out Belinda for the first set.
“They say he had ten thousand a year, or more,” one of the girls said to Mary. “Belinda will do well for herself if she can capture him! I wonder where they met?”
“I understand he is Paul’s friend,” Mary replied as casually as she could contrive.
“He seems more interested in Belinda now, at any event,” was the response to this, and Mary had to admit to herself that it was true. Sir Ingram danced with several other girls, but did not approach Mary, and later he danced again with Belinda, who looked radiantly beautiful in a cream and gold gown that suited her to perfection. Mary tried not to notice that after this dance Sir Ingram and Belinda disappeared for a while, and chided herself for being disturbed by it. On the drive home she was unusually silent, but Caroline forbore from comment, and only later, in the privacy of their bedroom, remarked to her husband that she thought Mary would do better for herself than Geoffrey Knowle after all.
“Oh? Whom do you mean? Paul Ward? He does seem attentive, I agree, but then he has known Mary all her life and never before shown any partiality for her.”
“Not Paul, you simpleton,” Caroline laughed. “I meant Sir Ingram.”
“Sir Ingram Leigh?” Arthur said in amazement. “But he spent most of the time with Belinda!”
“Poof! That means nothing! It’s either a blind or a ploy to make her jealous. I’m sure that as yet she has no idea.”
“Well, neither had I,” Arthur said with a laugh. “It’s all in your imagination, my love.”
“You haven’t seen
“Oh, do not be concerned. I am completely better,” Caroline protested. “I was thinking, that is all.”
“But these headaches are getting worse, are they not?” Mary persisted anxiously.
“Yes, and I have had one or two severe ones lately,” Caroline admitted. “They are abominable at the time, but there are no effects the next day. Belinda is pretty, is she not?” she asked abruptly.
“I have not seen her often recently, only at your party, in fact. She has certainly changed from the schoolgirl she was.”
“Sir Ingram seemed impressed. He danced with her twice at the party.”
“He is obviously susceptible to feminine charms,” Mary replied tartly, and Caroline smiled to herself and changed the subject.
The following day they drove to Abbey Court, the home of the Ward family, to find a group of twenty or so assembled for the dinner party, mostly young people who were nearly all known to Mary. As she entered the parlour Mary glanced quickly round, and then hastily turned her head away as she saw Sir Ingram leaning over Belinda’s chair. Furious with herself for being concerned with his actions, she contrived to avoid him until they went into dinner, when she found herself seated beside him with Belinda on his other side.
“You appear cross,” he said softly to her as they sat down, and chuckled at her glance of annoyance. “It must be very provoking to have to be polite to me when you are longing to tell me what a monster you consider me. Teresa was voluble on the journey, and left me in no doubt as to what she had told you of her side of the story. How much did you believe?”
“I am sure she exaggerated somewhat,” Mary replied as coolly as she could, and he laughed again, and turned to reply to a remark of Belinda’s.
Scrupulously polite, he divided his attention between the two girls, but Mary, while conversing with her other neighbour, could not fail to be aware of how well he seemed to be getting on with Belinda.
Other people noticed it too, and there were many whispers to that effect when, dinner over, Mrs Ward arranged for dancing in one of her parlours, and Sir Ingram led out Belinda for the first set.
“They say he had ten thousand a year, or more,” one of the girls said to Mary. “Belinda will do well for herself if she can capture him! I wonder where they met?”
“I understand he is Paul’s friend,” Mary replied as casually as she could contrive.
“He seems more interested in Belinda now, at any event,” was the response to this, and Mary had to admit to herself that it was true. Sir Ingram danced with several other girls, but did not approach Mary, and later he danced again with Belinda, who looked radiantly beautiful in a cream and gold gown that suited her to perfection. Mary tried not to notice that after this dance Sir Ingram and Belinda disappeared for a while, and chided herself for being disturbed by it. On the drive home she was unusually silent, but Caroline forbore from comment, and only later, in the privacy of their bedroom, remarked to her husband that she thought Mary would do better for herself than Geoffrey Knowle after all.
“Oh? Whom do you mean? Paul Ward? He does seem attentive, I agree, but then he has known Mary all her life and never before shown any partiality for her.”
“Not Paul, you simpleton,” Caroline laughed. “I meant Sir Ingram.”
“Sir Ingram Leigh?” Arthur said in amazement. “But he spent most of the time with Belinda!”
“Poof! That means nothing! It’s either a blind or a ploy to make her jealous. I’m sure that as yet she has no idea.”
“Well, neither had I,” Arthur said with a laugh. “It’s all in your imagination, my love.”
“You haven’t seen
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