"I have known him a long time."
"He's a nice fellow," went on Miss Vere easily—"a leetle stingy sometimes, but never mind that! You want to know about Sir Philip Errington, and I'll tell you. He's chosen to mix himself up with some affairs of mine—"
"What affairs?" asked Lady Winsleigh rather eagerly.
"They don't concern you," returned Miss Vere calmly, "and we needn't talk about them! But they concern Sir Philip,—or he thinks they do, and insists on seeing me about them, and holding long conversations, which bore me excessively!"
She yawned slightly, smothering her yawn in a dainty lace handkerchief, and then went on—
"He's a moral young man, don't you know—and I never could endure moral men! I can't get on with them at all!"
"Then you don't like him?" questioned Lady Winsleigh in rather a disappointed tone.
"No, I don't!" said the Vere candidly. "He's not my sort. But, Lord bless you! I know how he's getting talked about because he comes here—and serve him right too! He shouldn't meddle with my business." She paused suddenly and drew a letter from her pocket,—laughed and tossed it across the table.
"You can read that, if you like," she said indifferently. "He wrote it, and sent it round to me last night."
Lady Winsleigh's eyes glistened eagerly,—she recognized Errington's bold, clear hand at once,—and as she read, an expression of triumph played on her features. She looked up presently and said—