Kitty listened, sometimes pleased, sometimes inclined to be critical or
scornful of her mother-in-law's praise. But she did love Lady Tranmore,
and on the whole she smiled. Smiles, indeed, had been Kitty's portion
since that evening of strange emotion, when she had found herself
sobbing in William's arms for reasons quite beyond her own defining. It
was as if, like the prince in the fairy tale, some iron band round her
heart had given way. She seemed to dance through the house; she devoured
her child with kisses; and she was even willing sometimes to let William
tell her what his mother suspected of the progress of Mary's affair with
Geoffrey Cliffe, though she carefully avoided speaking directly to Lady
Tranmore about it. As to Cliffe himself, she seemed to have dropped him
out of her thoughts. She never mentioned him, and Ashe could only
suppose she had found him disenchanting.
"Well, darling! I hope I have made a sufficient fool of myself to please
you!"
Ashe had thrown the door wide, and stood on the threshold, arrayed in
the brocade and fur of a Venetian noble. He was a somewhat magnificent
apparition, and Kitty, who had coaxed or driven him into the dress, gave
a scream of delight.
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