For a while, as they rode, Rosamund was characteristically amusing,
sailing blandly over the shoals of scandal, though Eileen never
suspected it--wittily gay at her own expense, as well as at others,
flitting airily from topic to topic on the wings of a self-assurance
that becomes some women if they know when to stop. But presently the
mischievous perversity in her bubbled up again; she was tired of being
good; she had often meant to try the effect of a gentle shock on Miss
Erroll; and, besides, she wondered just how much truth there might be in
the unpleasantly persistent rumour of the girl's unannounced engagement
to Selwyn.
"It _would_ be amusing, wouldn't it?" she asked with guileless
frankness; "but, of course, it is not true--this report of their
reconciliation."
"Whose reconciliation?" asked Miss Erroll innocently.
"Why, Alixe Ruthven and Captain Selwyn. Everybody is discussing it, you
know."
"Reconciled? I don't understand," said Eileen, astonished. "They can't
be; how can--"
"But it _would_ be amusing, wouldn't it? and she could very easily get
rid of Jack Ruthven--any woman could.
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