If he hated her it was like him to show it when
he looked at her. I mean he was quite like that with almost any one. I
hoped, however, that diplomacy might still save us all sorts of a
nasty row.
To my relief when the pair appeared for tea that afternoon--a sight no
longer causing the least sensation--I saw that his lordship must have
returned to his first or diplomatic manner. Doubtless he still hated
her, but one would little have suspected it from his manner of looking
at her. I mean to say, he looked at her another way. The opposite way,
in fact. He was being subtle in the extreme. I fancied it must have
been her wretched levity regarding his beard that had goaded him into
the exhibitions of hatred noted by Cousin Egbert and the Mixer.
Unquestionably his lordship may be goaded in no time if one
deliberately sets about it. At the time, doubtless, he had sliced a
drive or two, as one might say, but now he was back in form.
Again I confess I was not a little sorry for the creature, seeing her
there so smartly taken in by his effusive manner. He was having her on
in the most obvious way and she, poor dupe, taking it all quite
seriously. Prime it was, though, considering the creature's designs;
and I again marvelled that in all the years of my association with his
lordship I had never suspected what a topping sort he could be at this
game.
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