CHAPTER XIII

The savory on Lady Bendip's plate lay untouched. The long fingers of her lightly freckled hand played nervously with the lorgnette that hung from her neck on a silver chain. No, it wasn't going to turn out at all as she had expected ... this little farewell dinner for Alec. There weren't, of course, enough people. With twenty at table, she had always been able to make the big dining-room cheery, notwithstanding the darkness of its paneling and the sourness of the faces of the early Bendips, who, done in too dark…