In the course of all her long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one word too much.

But no other woman living could imply so much by a gesture, a look or an exclamation.

One morning Basil had called early, in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings.

He found her alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room--a tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very cordial in his greeting.
"Lady Lisle has often spoken of you," he said; "but this is, strange to say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you.

I met your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant recollection of her." Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh, expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.
And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a matter as one could well experience.