Kitty locked her door while she was dressing, and Ashe, whose mind was a
confusion of many feelings--anger, compunction, and that fascination
which in her brilliant moods she exercised over him no less than over
others--could get no speech with her.
They met on the threshold of the child's room, she coming out, he going
in. But she wrenched herself from him and would say nothing. The report
of the little boy was good; he smiled at his father, and Ashe felt a
cooling balm in the touch of his soft hands and lips. He descended--in a
more philosophical mind; inclined, at any rate, to "damn" Lord Parham.
What a fool the man must be! Why couldn't he have taken it with a laugh,
and so turned the tables on Kitty?
Was there any good to be got out of apologizing? Ashe supposed he must
attempt it some time that night. A precious awkward business! But
relations had got to be restored somehow.
Lady Tranmore overtook him on the way down-stairs. In the press of the
afternoon they had hardly seen each other.
"What is really wrong with Lord Parham, William?" she asked him,
anxiously. Ashe hesitated, then whispered a word or two in her ear,
begging her to keep the great man in play for the evening.
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