Her distress was plain, born of her doubt of the Lady Mary's purpose, and suspense as to what might follow.
"I have not the honor of your ward's acquaintance, Lady Ostermore," said Lady Mary, whilst the men were bowing, and her cousins curtseying to the countess and her companion collectively.
The countess gasped, recovered, and eyed the speaker without any sign of affection.

"My husband's ward, ma'am," she corrected, in a voice that seemed to discourage further mention of Hortensia.
"'Tis but a distinction," put in Mr.Caryll suggestively.
"Indeed, yes.

Will not your ladyship present me ?" The countess' malevolent eyes turned a moment upon Mr.Caryll, smiling demurely at Lady Mary's elbow.

In his face--as well as in the four words he had uttered--she saw that here was work of his, and he gained nothing in her favor by it.

Meanwhile there were no grounds--other than such as must have been wantonly offensive to the Lady Mary, and so not to be dreamed of--upon which to refuse her request.