Meadows clearly thought that his wife was behaving very
badly. Lady Dunstable's efforts on his behalf had already done him
substantial service; she had introduced him to all kinds of people
likely to help him, intellectually and financially; and to help him was
to help Doris. Why would she be such a little fool? So unlike her,
too!--sensible, level-headed creature that she generally was. But he was
afraid of losing his own temper, if he argued with her. And indeed his
lazy easy-goingness loathed argument of this domestic sort, loathed
scenes, loathed doing anything disagreeable that could be put off.
But here was Lady Dunstable's letter:
Dear Mr. Arthur,--Will your wife forgive me if I ask you to come to
a tiny _men's_ dinner-party next Friday at 8.15--to meet the
President of the Duma, and another Russian, an intimate friend of
Tolstoy's? All males, but myself! So I hope Mrs. Meadows will let
you come.
Yours sincerely,
RACHEL DUNSTABLE.
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