His wife became pink, and then in halting sentences, began to tell Lord Gaythorne and the Bishop, her immediate neighbours, some little tales respecting their recent excursions and experiences. Having secured the attention of the company, and during a dead silence, in her clear, girlish voice, she proceeded to relate how they had made a delightful trip with Sir Algy and Lady Vickery, and had all dined together at an old inn in the mountains and driven back by moonlight. This story was listened to in horrified amazement, as it was a well-known fact that Sir Algy Vickery was _not_ a married man. Kind Lady Gaythorne burst in upon the pause, with jerky recollections of her own honeymoon,--now a matter of somewhat ancient history,--but once again the little bride, anxiously striving to entertain, brought forward in all innocence, one of the stories which she had heard in Paris. The unhappy girl had not the remotest idea that she was retailing a hideously improper _double entendre_ (a recent _succès_ of the Boulevards). She only remembered that when told by Lady Slater it had been received--why she could not say--with yells of laughter and applause. When she concluded, there ensued a grim and petrifying silence. To the ladies, the tale was cryptic; to most of the men it was as if a bomb had exploded on the mahogany! Lord Gaythorne gasped, the Master of Hounds choked convulsively in his serviette. As for the Bishop, he had been changed into an image of stone. The guests stared blankly at their girlish hostess, dressed in the most _outré_ French style, and calmly relating the Frenchiest of stories! But she turned on them a face of beautiful, child-like innocence, and actually seemed to appeal for their approval, and applause. This pitiful incident had far-reaching results. By gradual degrees, the intelligence filtered through the County, that Blagdon’s pretty young wife was a simpleton--just one degree removed from a mere imbecile. What a pity! Unconscious of her enormity, the bride made a timid sign to Lady Gaythorne, and rose from her place. She was presently made aware that her first dinner-party had been a failure, for as her husband held the door open for the ladies to pass forth, the glance he threw at her, was charged with fury. CHAPTER XV