It is yours, but it
is a trust to be used for me. It is yours, in fact, to share
with me." At this climax, which must have struck upon her ear
with a certain familiarity, Miss Trix Queenborough,
notwithstanding the place and occasion, tossed her pretty head
and whispered to me, "What horrid stuff!"
In the ensuing week Jack Ives was our constant companion; the
continued illness of his servant's mother left him stranded, and
Dora's kind heart at once offered him the hospitality of her
roof. For my part I was glad, for the little drama which now
began was not without its interest. It was a pleasant change to
see Jack genially polite to Trix Queenborough, but quite
indifferent to her presence or absence, and content to allow
her to take Newhaven for her partner at tennis as often as she
pleased. He himself was often an absentee from our games. Mrs.
Wentworth did not play, and Jack would sit under the trees with
her, or take her out in the canoe. What Trix thought I did not
know, but it is a fact that she treated poor Newhaven like dirt
beneath her feet, and that Lady Queenborough's face began to lose
its transiently pleasant expression. I had a vague idea that a
retribution was working itself out, and disposed myself to see
the process with all the complacency induced by the spectacle of
others receiving punishment for their sins.
A little scene which occurred after lunch one day was
significant.
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