"I've thought it all over very carefully," said she; "both as it would affect me and as it would affect Archie.""Quite so. Now suppose you think how it would affect them?""Who?"
"Why, the men."
Lady Mickleham put down her cup of tea. "What a very curious idea!" she exclaimed.
"Give it time to sink in," said I, helping myself to another piece of toast. She sat silent for a few moments--presumably to allow of the permeation I suggested. I finished my tea and leant back comfortably. Then I said:
"Let me take my own case. Shouldn't I feel rather awkward--?""Oh, it's no good taking your case," she interrupted.
"Why not mine as well as another?"
"Because I told him about you long ago."
I was not surprised. But I could not permit Lady Mickleham to laugh at me in the unconscionable manner in which she proceeded to laugh. I spread out my hands and observed blandly:
"Why not be guided--as to the others, I mean--by your husband's example?""Archie's example? What's that?"
"I don't know; but you do, I suppose."
"What do you mean, Mr. Carter?" she asked, sitting upright.
"Well, has he ever told you about Maggie Adeane?""I never heard of her."
"Or Lilly Courtenay?"
"That girl!"
"Or Alice Layton?"
"The red-haired Layton?"
"Or Florence Cunliffe?"
"Who was she?"
"Or Millie Trehearne?"
"She squints, Mr. Carter."
"Or--"
"Stop, stop! What do you mean? What should he tell me?""Oh, I see he hasn't. Nor, I suppose, about Sylvia Fenton, or that little Delancy girl, or handsome Miss--what was her name?""Hold your tongue--and tell me what you mean.""Lady Mickleham," said I gravely, "if your husband has not thought fit to mention these ladies--and others whom I could name--to you, how could I presume--?""Do you mean to tell me that Archie--?"
"He'd only known you three years, you see."
"Then it was before--?"
"Some of them were before," said I.
Lady Mickleham drew a long breath.
"Archie will be in soon," said she.
I took my hat.
"It seems to me," I observed, "that what is sauce--that, I should say, husband and wife ought to stand on an equal footing in these matters. Since he has--no doubt for good reasons--not mentioned to you--""Alice Layton was a positive fright."
"She came last," said I. "Just before you, you know. However, as I was saying--""And that horrible Sylvia Fenton--"
"Oh, he couldn't have known you long then. As I was saying, Ishould, if I were you, treat him as he has treated you. In my case it seems to be too late.""I'm sorry I told him that."
"Oh, pray don't mind, it's of no consequence. As to the others--""I should never have thought it of Archie!"
"One never knows," said I, with an apologetic smile. "I don't suppose he thinks it of you.""I won't tell him a single word. He may find out if he likes.
Who was the last girl you mentioned?"
"Is it any use trying to remember all their names?" I asked in a soothing tone. "No doubt he's forgotten them by now--just as you've forgotten the others.""And the Dowager told me that he had never had an attachment before.""Oh, if the Dowager said that! Of course, the Dowager would know!""Don't be so silly, for goodness sake! Are you going?""Certainly I am. It might annoy Archie to find me here when he wants to talk to you.""Well, I want to talk to him."
"Of course you won't repeat what I've--"
"I shall find out for myself," she said.
"Goodbye. I hope I've removed all your troubles?""O, yes, thank you. I know what to do now, Mr. Carter.""Always send for me if you're in any trouble. I have some exp--""Goodbye, Mr. Carter."
"Goodbye, Lady Mickleham. And remember that Archie, like you--""Yes, yes; I know. Must you go?"
I'm afraid I must. I've enjoyed our talk so--""There's Archie's step."
I left the room. On the stairs I met Archie. I shook hands sympathetically. I was sorry for Archie. But in great causes the individual cannot be considered. I had done my duty to my ***.
