I can't help being a little angry with Sir James. We are the
oldest friends.
"Of course I have often been anxious lately lest Oliver
should have done anything to offend you. I have spoken to him
about that tiresome meeting, and I think I could prove to you
it was _not_ his fault. Do, my dear friend, come here as soon
as you can, and let me explain to you whatever may have
seemed wrong. You cannot think how much we miss you. I feel
it a little hard that there should be strangers here this
evening--like Mr. Lankester and Mr. Barrington. But it could
not be helped. Mr. Lankester was speaking for Oliver last
night--and Mr. Barrington invited himself. I really don't
know why. Oliver is dreadfully tired--and so am I. The
ingratitude and ill-feeling of many of our neighbors has
tried me sorely. It will be a long time before I forget it.
It really seems as though nothing were worth striving for in
this very difficult world."
"Poor Lucy!" said Ferrier to himself, his heart softening, as usual.
"Barrington? H'm. That's odd." He had only time for a short reply:
"My dear Lady Lucy,--It's horrid that you are tired and
depressed.
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