It was very far indeed from that, and spoke of the count simply as a friend; but its eloquence went to show that nothing that had passed should be construed by Lady Ongar as offering any bar to a fair friendship.

What the world said!--Bah! Did not she know--she, Sophie--and did not her friend know--her friend Julie--that the world was a great liar?
Was it not even now telling wicked venomous lies about her friend Julie?
Why mind what the world said, seeing that the world could not be brought to speak one word of truth?
The world indeed! Bah! But Lady Ongar, though she was not as yet more than half as old as Madame Gordeloup, knew what she was about almost as well as that lady knew what Sophie Gordeloup was doing.

Lady Ongar had known the count's sister in France and Italy, having seen much of her in one of those sudden intimacies to which English people are subject when abroad; and she had been glad to see Madame Gordeloup in London--much more glad than she would have been had she been received there on her return by a crowd of loving native friends.

But not on that account was she prepared to shape her conduct in accordance with her friend Sophie's advice, and especially not so when that advice had reference to Sophie's brother.
She had, therefore, said very little in return to the lady's eloquence, answering the letter on that matter very vaguely; but, having a purpose of her own, had begged that Count Pateroff might be asked to call upon Harry Clavering.

Count Pateroff did not feel himself to care very much about Harry Clavering, but wishing to do as he was bidden, did leave his card in Bloomsbury Square.
And why was Lady Ongar anxious that the young man who was her friend should see the man who had been her husband's friend, and whose name had been mixed with her own in so grievous a manner?
She had called Harry her friend, and it might be that she desired to give this friend every possible means of testing the truth of that story which she herself had told.