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Lady Lowestoft much might be learned of Society and Politics. She moved in the Polite World, and made something of a figure in it, for she had sufficient wealth, some charm, and a vivacity of manner that was foreign and therefore intriguing. There sat withal a shrewd head on her shoulders.
    She was a widow of no very late date; indeed she had interred Sir Roger Lowestoft with all decency little more than a year back, and having for a space mourned him with suitable propriety she had now launched upon a single life again, which promised to be very much more entertaining than had been the married state. It must be admitted Sir Roger was little loss to his lady. She had been heard to say that his English respectability gave her a cramp in the soul. Certainly she had been a volatile creature in the days of her spinsterhood. Then came Sir Roger, and laid his sober person, and all his substantial goods at her feet. She picked them up.
    ‘I am no longer so young as I was,
voyez vous
,’
she had said to her friends. ‘The time comes for me to range myself.’
    Accordingly she married Sir Roger, and as an Ambassador’s lady she conducted herself admirably, and achieved popularity.
    She was ensconced now in her house in Arlington Street, with fat Marthe to watch over her, a monkey to sit in the folds of her skirts, as Fashion prescribed, and a black page to run her errands. She entertained on the lavish scale, her acquaintances were many, and she had beside quite a small host of admirers.
    ‘You understand, these English consider me in the light of an original,’ she exclaimed to Prudence. ‘I have an instant success,
parole d’honneur!
’
    She was off without awaiting the reply, on to another subject. Conversationally she fluttered like a butterfly, here, there, and everywhere. She had much to say of the late executions: there were upflung hands of horror, and some pungent exclamations in the French tongue. She spoke of his Grace of Cumberland, not flatteringly; she had a quick ripple of laughter for his ugly nickname, and the instant after a brimming pair of eyes when she thought how he had earned it. Blood! England must needs reek of it! She gave a shudder. But there must be no more executions: that was decided: no, nor risings either. All that was folly; folly the most outrageous.
Peste
,
how came the Merriots in so forlorn a
galère?
. . .
    They sat alone at the dinner-table; the lackeys had withdrawn, and even the little black page had been sent away. Prudence answered my lady, since Robin sat silent. ‘Oh, believe me, ma’am, we ask ourselves! The old gentleman had a maggot in his brain belike. A
beau geste
,
I am persuaded; nothing else.’
    ‘But stupid, my child, stupid! There was never a hope. Moreover, we do very well with little fierce George. Bah, why plunge all in disorder for a pretty princeling?’
    ‘He had the right.’ Robin spoke sombrely.
    ‘
Quant à ça
,
I know nothing of the matter, my little one. You English, you chose for yourselves a foreigner.
Bien!
But you must not turn against him now. No, no, that is not reasonable.’
    ‘By your leave, ma’am, not all chose him.’
    She flashed a look at him. ‘Eh, so he had you under his spell, the bonnie prince? But you—no, my cabbage, you are no Jacobite at heart. A spell, no more.’
    ‘Oh, I am nothing at all, ma’am, rest you content. I meddle no more in the affairs of princes.’
    ‘That is wise,’ she approved. ‘This time you escape. Another time—who knows?’
    He laughed irresponsibly. ‘As to that, my lady, I don’t count myself safe as yet.’
    His sister’s serenity was ruffled momentarily. She looked with some anxiety towards my lady, who bent towards her swiftly, and patted her hand.
    ‘Ah, no more of that!
Au fond
,
you do not like to see blood flow, you English. It is thought there has been blood enough: the tide turns. Lie close, and all blows over. I am certain of it—
moi qui te parle!
’
    Robin made a face at his