“I am only surprised that you have been blind to it,” he continued. “Where do you think he goes every day for so long? White’s? No. To 16, Mount Street! Stapely called there and met him; another day Lady Davenant saw him with her; Wilding has also met him at her house. He spends nearly every afternoon with her!”

Lavinia was a Belmanoir, and she had all the Belmanoir pride. Rising to her feet she drew her cloak about her with her most queenly air.

“You forget yourself, Harold,” she said haughtily. “Never dare to speak to me of my husband again in that tone! You may take me at once to my brother.”

He was very penitent, wording his apology most cleverly, smoothing her ruffled plumage, withdrawing his words, but at the same time contriving to leave their sting behind. She forgave him, yes, but he must never offend her so again.