"Oh, Kitty!" cried Margaret, in laughing protest, as she stooped to pick
up the litter of Kitty's letters, some of them still unopened, which lay
scattered on the grass, as they had fallen unheeded from her lap.
But the little figure in the trailing skirts was already out of hearing.
* * * * *
At dinner Kitty was in her wildest spirits--a sparkling vision of
diamonds and lace, much beyond--so it seemed to Lord Grosville--what the
occasion required. "Dressed out like a comedy queen at a fair!" was his
inward comment, and he already rolled the phrases in which he should
describe the whole party to his wife. Like the expected Lord Parham, he
was there in sign of semi-reconciliation. Nothing would have induced
Kitty to invite her aunt; the memory of a certain Sunday was too strong.
On her side, Lady Grosville averred that nothing would have induced her
to sit at Kitty's board. As to this, her husband cherished a certain
scepticism. However, her resolution was not tried. It was Ashe, in fact,
who had invited Lord Grosville, and Lord Grosville, who was master in
his own house, and had no mind to break with William Ashe just as that
gentleman's company became even better worth having than usual, had
accepted the invitation.
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