Lady Winsleigh stopped in her slow pacing along the gravel-walk, and raised her eyes steadily to her companion's face.
"Are you sure of this?" she asked.
"Positive!" replied Sir Francis, flicking the light ash off his cigarette delicately with his little finger. "When you wrote me that note about the Vere, I confess I had my suspicions. Since then they've been confirmed. I know for a fact that Errington has had several private interviews with Vi, and has also written her a good many letters. Some of the fellows in the green-room tease her about her new conquest, and she grins and admits it. Oh, the whole thing's plain enough! Only last week, when he went up to town to see his man Neville on business he called on Vi at her own apartments in Arundel Street, Strand. She told me so herself--we're rather intimate, you know,--though of course she refused to mention the object of his visit. Honor among thieves!" and he smiled half mockingly.
Lady Winsleigh seemed absorbed, and walked on like one in a dream. Just then, a bend in the avenue brought them in full view of the broad terrace in front of the Manor, where Thelma's graceful figure, in a close-fitting robe of white silk crepe, was outlined clearly against the dazzling blue of the sky. Several people were grouped near her,--she seemed to be in animated conversation with some of them, and her face was radiant with smiles. Lady Winsleigh looked at her,--then said suddenly in a low voice-"It will break her heart!"
Sir Francis assumed an air of polite surprise. "Pardon! Whose heart?"
She pointed slightly to the white figure on the terrace.
"Hers! Surely you must know that?"
He smiled. "Well--isn't that precisely what you desire Clara? Though, for my part, I don't believe in the brittleness of hearts--they seem to me to be made of exceptionally tough material. However, if the fair Thelma's heart cracks ever so widely, I think I can undertake to mend it!"
Clara shrugged her shoulders. "You!" she exclaimed contemptuously.
He stroked his moustache with feline care and nicety.
"Yes--I! If not, I've studied women all my life for nothing!"
She broke into a low peal of mocking laughter--turned, and was about to leave him, when he detained her by a slight touch on her arm.
"Stop a bit!" he said in an impressive sotto-voce. "A bargain's a bargain all the world over. If I undertake to keep you cognizant of Bruce-Errington's little goings-on in London,--information which, I dare say, you can turn to good account,--you must do something for me. I ask very little. Speak of me to Lady Errington--make her think well of me,--flatter me as much as you used to do when we fancied ourselves terrifically in love with each other--(a good joke, wasn't it!)--and, above all, make her trust me! Do you understand?"