Suddenly, memory brought before him the
little picture of Ashe and Lady Kitty together--he bending over her, in
his large, handsome geniality, and she looking up. Darrell felt a twinge
of jealousy--then disgust. Really, men like Ashe had the world too
easily their own way. That they should pose, besides, was too much.
III
Rather more than a fortnight after the evening at Madame d'Estrees',
William Ashe found himself in a Midland train on his way to the
Cambridgeshire house of Lady Grosville. While the April country slipped
past him--like some blanched face to which life and color are
returning--Ashe divided his time between an idle skimming of the
Saturday papers and a no less idle dreaming of Kitty Bristol. He had
seen her two or three times since his first introduction to her--once at
a ball to which Lady Grosville had taken her, and once on the terrace of
the House of Commons, where he had strolled up and down with her for a
most amusing and stimulating hour, while her mother entertained a group
of elderly politicians. And the following day she had come alone--her
own choice--to take tea with Lady Tranmore, on that lady's invitation,
as prompted by her son.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54