So far, all was plain sailing:--now, came the tug of war.
Mrs Clyde was standing up, facing the door, as I entered the drawing-
room into which the handmaiden had ushered me.
"Won't you sit down, Mr Lorton?" she said, politely.
She never forgot her good breeding; and, I verily believe, if it had
ever been her lot to officiate in Calcraft's place, she would have asked
the culprit, whom she was about to hasten on his way to "kingdom come,"
whether he found the fatal noose too tight, or comfortable and easy,
around his doomed neck! She would do this, too, I'm sure, with the most
charming solicitude possible!
I noticed of her, that, whenever she was bent on using her sharpest
weapons--of "society's" armoury and, methinks, the devil's forge-mark!--
she always put on an extra gloss of politeness over her normal smooth
and varnished style of address.