Page:The Yellow Book - 06.djvu/252

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230
The Dead Wall

empty faith in her affection. But now at this slight repulse somehow the props swayed beneath his rickety platform, and his thoughts ran in a darker current of despair. The bankruptcy, the guilt, the horror of his defalcations, were no longer the Evil to come, but merely now the steps by which he mounted to the real tragedy of his life.

Rosewarne quietly took up his hat, and drawing on his coat, passed out or" the house and walked slowly towards the City.

It was upon two o'clock when Mrs. Rosewarne descended from the portico of her house and was enclosed within her landau by the footman. She was in a fervour which became her admirably; her cheeks were touched with points of colour, and her fine eyes brightened as with the flash of steel. She itched to try the temper of her diplomacy, and, as she entered the drawing-room of her hostess, the thought that she was well equipped for the encounter filled her anew with zest. Her eyes, piercing from that handsome face, challenged the luncheon-party. Mrs. Charters gave her a loud effusive welcome, as the beauty of the entertainment, and a general murmur of greeting seemed to salute her ears. Stepping a pace from the company and engaging easily with her hostess, Mrs. Rosewarne denoted the guests with sharp glances. Of her own disposition at the table she could have no certainty; the occasion was urgent; and with a nod she summoned Lord Hambleton to her side.

"And you, Lord Hambleton! said she with a pretty air of surprise, "why, I heard you were in Scotland."

"Scotland! "he said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling. "What! Scotland in January, and the session like a drawn sword at one's heart."

"Ah!" she replied, "I had forgotten the session. And yet my poor husband talks enough about it."

"Indeed!"