* * * * *
"I should swallow him, if I were you," was Lady Maria's spoken reflection
upon what her young friend was able to tell her. "I should swallow him
like a pill. You won't taste him much, and he'll do you worlds of good.
The world? I'm not talking of the world. I never do. He'll put you right
with yourself. That's much more to the point. He's in love with you, I
believe. From what you tell me, that's new. You suppose that he was in
love with you before. I do not. He was in love with himself, as you
presented him. Most men are. Now you are to occupy that exceedingly
comfortable position of a woman out of love with her husband,
extravagantly beloved by him. Next to being a man's mistress there's no
surer ground for you than that, with respectability added, mind you. No
mean addition. Take my advice, my dear, and you won't regret it."
But Sanchia knew at the bottom of her heart that Ingram was not in love
with her. He wanted her restored to his collection.
IX
On the Monday morning, after a night of broken sleep, she received a
letter from her mother.
"MY DEAR CHILD," Mrs. Percival wrote, "I met Nevile Ingram, _quite
unexpectedly,_ on Saturday evening.
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