Somehow or other, Celia was relieved that she was not asked to dine with
the family; for she had feared that she might have to do so. She had her
dinner in her own room as usual, and afterwards went into the library to
do a little work; but she had scarcely commenced when she heard a knock
at the door, and a fashionably-dressed young woman entered. As she rose,
Celia knew that it was Lord Heyton's wife, and she regarded the
beautiful face and exquisitely-clad figure with all a woman's admiration
for a lovely specimen of her own sex.
"Oh, may I come in?" said Lady Heyton. "I shan't disturb you, Miss
Grant? I do so want to see you. The Marquess has been telling us about
you. What a handsome room! May I sit down--you're sure I shan't disturb
you, be a nuisance?"
"Oh, no," replied Celia, pushing forward one of the antique but
comfortable chairs.
Lady Heyton seated herself, looked round her, and then fixed her eyes on
Celia's face, curiously.
"And so you are the lady librarian; and this is where you work? How
charming! Why didn't you come in to dinner to-night?" she asked,
abruptly.
"I dine alone, in that room," replied Celia, colouring slightly.
"How quaint!" remarked Lady Heyton, with a little shrug. "I shall ask
the Marquess whether you can't dine with us; you will be company for me.
It was rather dull this evening, and I was terribly bored. It's the
first time I've been here, you know; the first time I've seen the
Marquess, in fact. Don't you find this great big place rather--rather
depressing?" She gave a little shudder, and held out her ring-laden
hands towards the fire. "I suppose it's because the house is so old, and
there are so few people in it.--But tell me about yourself. You're very
young, and--yes, you're exceedingly good-looking. Do you mind my telling
you so?"
"Not at all," said Celia, with a smile. "I wish the information was as
accurate as it is candid. No, I don't find the house dull. I'm very
busy, you see."
"Ah, that makes a difference, I suppose," said Miriam, leaning back and
barely concealing a yawn with her hand. "I'm afraid I shall be bored to
death if we stay here long. You know, I've only been married a short
time, and I hate being bothered."
Celia noted the petulant droop of the almost perfect lips, the faint
lines of weariness which trailed from the corners of them, noted the
weakness of the chin, the restlessness of the blue eyes which shone like
amethysts in the firelight; it was evident to Celia that this beautiful,
graceful young creature was not a happy woman. She did not know how
much, since her marriage, Miriam had deteriorated, mentally and
spiritually. One cannot touch pitch and escape undefiled.