A Womans Remorse

HAVING warmed his feet to his own entire satisfaction, Horace turned
round from the fireplace, and discovered that he and Lady Janet were
alone.

"Can I see Grace?" he asked.

The easy tone in which he put the question--a tone, as it were, of
proprietorship in "Grace"--jarred on Lady Janet at the moment. For
the first time in her life she found herself comparing Horace with
Julian--to Horace's disadvantage. He was rich; he was a gentleman of
ancient lineage; he bore an unblemished character. But who had the
strong brain? who had the great heart? Which was the Man of the two?

"Nobody can see her," answered Lady Janet. "Not even you!"

The tone of the reply was sharp, with a dash of irony in it. But where
is the modern young man, possessed of health and an independent income,
who is capable of understanding that irony can be presumptuous enough
to address itself to _him?_ Horace (with perfect politeness) declined to
consider himself answered.

"Does your ladyship mean that Miss Roseberry is in bed?" he asked.

"I mean that Miss Roseberry is in her room. I mean that I have twice
tried to persuade Miss Roseberry to dress and come downstairs, and tried
in vain. I mean that what Miss Roseberry refuses to do for Me, she is
not likely to do for You--"

How many more meanings of her own Lady Janet might have gone on
enumerating, it is not easy to calculate. At her third sentence a sound
in the library caught her ear through the incompletely closed door and
suspended the next words on her lips. Horace heard it also. It was the
rustling sound (traveling nearer and nearer over the library carpet) of
a silken dress.