"Ah, you do not know! But I was an heiress myself, and I can tell you it was sometimes a very unenviable position."
Worth said, with a note of amusement in his voice: "My position was certainly so, but that you experienced anything but the most profound enjoyment comes as news to me."
She was betrayed into a laugh, but said: "Well, perhaps I did enjoy teasing you at least, but recollect that I was never a shy creature like Lucy."
"I recollect that perfectly," said the Earl.
"Is Miss Devenish shy? I did not find her so," said the Colonel. "Shy girls are the devil, for they won't talk, and have such a habit of blushing that one is for ever thinking one has said something shocking. I found Miss Devenish perfectly conversable."
Judith was satisfied. The Colonel, though ready to discuss the fete, had apparently forgotten Barbara Childe's existence. Not one word of admiration for her crossed his lips; her name was not mentioned.
"Julian, what a mercy! I don't believe he can have liked her after all!" confided her ladyship later, in the privacy of her own bedroom. "Indeed, I might have trusted to his excellent good sense. Did you notice that he did not once speak of her?"
"I did," replied the Earl somewhat grimly. "Well?"
He looked at her, smiling, and took her chin in his hand. "You are an ever-constant source of delight to me, my love. Did you know?" he said, kissing her.
Judith returned this embrace with great readiness, but asked: "Why? Have I said something silly?"
"Very silly," Worth assured her tenderly.
"How horrid you are! Tell me at once!"
"My adorable simpleton, Charles induced no less a personage than the Prince of Orange to present him to she most striking woman in the room, seized not one but two waltzes which I have not the least doubt were bespoken days ago by less fortunate suitors, and comes away at the end of the evening with apparently not one word to say of a lady whom even you will admit to be of quite extraordinary beauty."
"Oh!" she said. "Is that a bad sign, do you think?"
"The worst!" he answered.
She was shaken, but said stoutly: "Well, I don't believe it. Charles has great good sense. I am perfectly at ease."
Had she been privileged to observe Colonel Audley's actions not very many hours later her faith in his good sense might have suffered a shock. The Colonel's staff training had made him expert in obtaining desired information, and he had not wasted his time at the fete. While his sister-in-law still lay sleeping, he was up, and in the Earl's stables. Seven o'clock saw him cantering gently down the Allee Verte, beyond the walls of the town, mounted on a blood mare reserved for his brother's exclusive use.
Nor was this energy wasted. The edge had scarcely gone from the mare's morning freshness before the Colonel was rewarded by the sight of a slim figure, in a habit of cerulean blue, cantering ahead of him, unattended by any groom, and mounted on a raking grey hunter.
The Colonel gave the mare her head, and in two minutes was abreast of the grey. Lady Barbara, hearing the flying hooves, had turned her head, and immediately urged the grey to a gallop. Down the deserted Allee raced the horses, between two rows of thick lime trees, and with the still waters of the canal shining on their left.
"To the bridge!" called Barbara.
The Colonel held the mare in a little. "Done! What will you wager?"
"Anything you please!" she said recklessly.
"Too rash! I might take an unfair advantage!"
"Pooh!" she returned.
They flew on, side by side, until in the distance the bridge leading over the canal to the Laekon road came into sight. Then the Colonel relaxed his grip and allowed the Doll to lengthen her stride. For a moment or two the grey kept abreast, but the pace was too swift for her to hold. The mare pulled ahead, flashed on up the avenue, was checked just short of the bridge, and reached it, dancing on her hooves and snatching a little at the bit.
Barbara came up like a thunderbolt, and reined in, panting. "Oh, by God! Three lengths!" she called out. "What do I lose?"
The Colonel leaned forward in the saddle to pat the Doll's neck. Under the brim of his low-cocked hat his eyes laughed into Barbara's. "I wish it might be your heart!"
"My dear sir, don't you know I haven't one? Come now! In all seriousness?"
He looked at her thoughtfully. She had had the audacity to cram over her flaming curls a hat like an English officer's forage cap. She wore it at a raffish angle, the leathern peak almost obscuring the Vision of one merry eye. Her habit was severely plain, with no more than two rows of silver buttons adorning it, but the cravat round her throat was deeply edged with lace, its ends thrust through a buttonhole.
"One of your gloves," said the Colonel, and held out his hand.
She pulled it off at once, and tossed it to him. He caught it, and tucked it into the breast of his coat.
She wheeled her mount, and prepared to retrace her steps. The Colonel fell in beside her at a walking pace.
"Do you collect gloves, Colonel?"
"I have not up till now," he replied. "But a glove is a satisfactory keepsake, you know. Something of the wearer always remains with it."
"Let me tell you that a gallant man would have let me win!" she said, with a touch of raillery.
He turned his head. "Are you in general so spoilt?"
"Of course! I'm Bab Childe!" she replied, opening her eyes at him.
"And challenged me to a race in the expectation of being permitted to win?"
Her mouth lifted a little at the corners; the one eye he could see glinted provocatively. "What do you think?"
"I think you are too good a sportsman, Lady Barbara."
"Am I? I wonder?" Her gaze flitted to the Doll; she said appreciatively: "I like a man to be a judge of horseflesh. What's her breeding?"
"I haven't a notion," replied the Colonel. "To tell you the truth, she is out of my brother's stable."
"I thought I knew her. But this is abominable! How was I to guess you would steal one of Worth's horses? I consider you to have won almost by a trick! She's the devil to go, isn't she? Does he know you have her out?"
"Not yet," admitted the Colonel. "My dependence is all on his being still too delighted at having me restored to him to object."
She laughed. "You deserve to be thrown out of doors! I believe that to be the mare he habitually rides himself!"
"Oh, it won't come to that!" said the Colonel. "I shall implore my sister-in-law's intercession. That is a nice fellow you have there."
She passed her hand over the grey's neck. "Yes, this is Coup de Grace. We are in the same case, only that while you stole your lady, I have been lent this gentleman."
"Whom does he belong to?" asked the Colonel, running an eye over his points. "He may have a French name, but I'll swear he's of English breeding."
"Captain de Lavisse bought him in England last year," she replied with one of her sidelong looks.
"Did he?" said the Colonel. "Captain de Lavisse - is he the man who was standing beside you last night, when I first met you?"
"I don't recollect, but it is very probable. He is in the 5th National Militia: Count Bylandt's brigade, stationed somewhere near Nivelles - Buzet, I think. He has estates north of Ghent, and a truly delightful house in the Rue d'Aremberg, here in Brussels."
"A gentleman of consequence evidently."
"Fabulously rich!" said Barbara with an ecstatic sigh, and touching the grey's flank with her heel, went ahead with a brisk trot.
He rode after; both horses broke into a canter, and their riders covered some distance under the limes without speaking. Barbara presently turned her head and asked bluntly: "Did you ride this way, and at this hour, to meet me?"
"Yes, of course."
She looked a little amused. "How did you know I rode here before breakfast?"
"Something you said last night gave me the clue, and I discovered the rest."