"Why--dear boy!" Anne gasped. The whole scene, highly colored by repetition, had been recounted to her. How Morella had told him of her plans, and how he had at once got introduced to Lady Ada, and played his cards so skilfully that the end of the evening produced the invitation. "Oh yes, of course, I remember she is going," he said, impatiently. "Anne, you haven't asked that beast Wensleydown to-day, have you?" "No, dear. What made you think so?" "I saw you talking to him in the park this morning, and I feared you might have. I shall certainly quarrel with him one of these days." "You will have an opportunity, then, at Beechleigh, as he will be there. He is always with the Fitzgeralds," Anne said, and she tried to laugh. "But don't make a scandal, Hector." She saw his eyes blaze. "He is going there, is he?" he said, and then he stared out of the window. Anne knew nothing of the relationship between Theodora and Sir Patrick. She never for a moment imagined the humble Browns would be invited to this exceptionally smart party. And yet she was uneasy. Why was Hector going? What plan was in his head? Not Morella, evidently. But she had never believed that would be his attraction. And Hector was too preoccupied to enlighten her. "Is mother coming to lunch?" he asked. "Yes, by her own request. I had not meant to ask her--Oh, well, you know, she is never very pleased at your having new friends, and I thought she might fix Mrs. Brown with that stony stare she has sometimes, and we would be happier without her; but she was determined to come." "It is just as well," he said, "because she will have to get accustomed to it. I shall ask my friends the Browns down to Bracondale on every occasion, and as she is hostess there the stony stare won't answer." "Manage her as best you may," said Anne. "But you know how she can be now and then--perfectly annihilating to unfortunate strangers." Hector's finely chiselled lips shut like a vise. "We shall see," he said. "And who else have you got? None of the Harrowfield-Devlyn crew, I hope--" "Hector, how strange you are! I thought you and Lady Harrowfield were the greatest friends, so of course I asked her. No one in London can make a woman's success as she can." "Or mar it so completely if she takes a dislike! Have you ever heard of her doing a kindness to any one? I haven't!" he said, irritably. Then he walked to the window and back quickly. "I tell you I am sick of it all, Anne. Last night, whoever I spoke to had something vile to impute or insinuate about every one they mentioned; and Lady Harrowfield, with a record of her own worse than the lowest, rode a high horse of virtue, and was more spiteful than all the rest put together. I loathe them, the whole crew. What do they know of anything good or pure or fine? Painted Jezebels, the lot of them!" "Hector!" almost screamed Lady Anningford. "What has come over you, my dear boy?"