Something similar was true of Maisie. Anyone with the least instinct for class differences could tell she was not a born lady. However, she played the part so well, and she was so pretty and charming, that they could not quite bring themselves to believe the persistent rumor that Solly had picked her up in a dance parlor. If there had been any question of her acceptance by London society, it had been answered when the Prince of Wales, son of Queen Victoria--and future king--had confessed himself "captivated" by her and sent her a gold cigarette box with a diamond clasp.
As the meal progressed she felt the presence of Hugh by her side more and more. She made an effort to keep the conversation light, and took care to talk at least as much to the man on her other side; but the past seemed to stand at her shoulder, waiting to be acknowledged, like a weary, patient supplicant.
She and Hugh had met three or four times since his return to London, and now they had spent forty-eight hours in the same house, but they had never spoken, of what had happened six years ago. All Hugh knew was that she had disappeared without a trace, only to surface as Mrs. Solomon Greenbourne. Sooner or later she was going to have to give him some explanation. She was afraid that talking about it would bring back all the old feelings, in him as well as her. But it had to be done, and perhaps this was a good time, when Solly was away.
A moment came when several people around them were talking noisily. Maisie decided she should speak now. She turned to Hugh, and suddenly she was overcome with emotion. She began speaking three or four times and could not go on. Finally she managed to get a few words out. "I would have ruined your career, you know." Then she had to make such an effort not to cry that she could say no more.
He understood right away what she was talking about. "Who told you that you would have ruined my career?"
If he had been sympathetic she might have broken down, but luckily he was aggressive, and that enabled her to reply. "Your aunt Augusta."
"I suspected she was involved somehow."
"But she was right."
"I don't believe that," he said, getting angry very quickly. "You didn't ruin Solly's career."
"Calm down. Solly wasn't already the black sheep of the family. Even so, it was difficult enough. His family hates me still."
"Even though you're Jewish?"
"Yes. Jews can be as snobbish as anyone else." He would never know the real reason--that Bertie was not Solly's child.
