He quitted the house, and Lady Verner proceeded upstairs to Decima's
room--that pretty room, with its blue panels and hangings, where Lionel
used to be when he was growing convalescent. Decima and Lucy were in it
now. "I wish you to go out with me to make a call," she said to them.
"Both of us, mamma?" inquired Decima.
"Both," repeated Lady Verner. "It is a call of etiquette," she added, a
sound of irony mixing in the tone, "and, therefore, you must both make
it. It is to Lionel's chosen wife."
A hot flush passed into the face of Lucy Tempest; hot words rose to her
lips. Hasty, thoughtless, impulsive words, to the effect that _she_
could not pay a visit to the chosen wife of Lionel Verner.
But she checked them ere they were spoken. She turned to the window,
which had been opened to the early spring day, and suffered the cool air
to blow on her flushed face, and calmed down her impetuous thoughts. Was
_this_ the course of conduct that she had marked out for herself? She
looked round at Lady Verner and said, in a gentle tone, that she would
be ready at any hour named.
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