... Is your ladyship at home?"
"Mr. Baxter--"
Mrs. Stapleton rose.
"Let me see him instead, dearest.... You remember ... from Stantons."
"I wonder what he wants?" murmured the hostess. "Yes, do see him,
Maud; you can always fetch me if it's anything."
Then she was gone. Mrs. Stapleton sank into a chair again; and in a
minute Laurie was shaking hands with her.
Mrs. Stapleton was accustomed to deal with young men, and through long
habit had learned how to flatter them without appearing to do so.
Laurie's type, however, was less familiar to her. She preferred the
kind that grow their hair rather long and wear turn-down collars, and
have just found out the hopeless banality of all orthodoxy whatever.
She even bore with them when they called themselves unmoral. But she
remembered Laurie, the silent boy at lunch last week, she had even
mentioned him to Lady Laura, and received information about the
village girl, more or less correct. She was also aware that he was a
Catholic.
She gave him her hand without rising.
"Lady Laura asked me to excuse her absence to you, Mr. Baxter. To be
quite truthful, she is at home, but had just gone upstairs for her
meditation.
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