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Bowman's presence at Milly's party was the last touch of success. Milly, though she had met the great lady, had not dared to send her a card. But Mrs. Gilbert, who realized what it would mean to Milly, had fetched her in her carriage, coaxingly, "It will please the girl so, you know, to have you there for a few minutes!"
The cause was a letter concerning the question whether dramatists ought to reduce their fees for performance by amateur clubs of copyright works, and the trump card of the opponents was the fact that many of the entertainments are given for the benefit of charities.
"I ain't going to hurt you," grumbled the young fellow. "Can't a fellow be pleasant like?" "I do not know you, sir." "Oh, that's all right. My name is Daniel Baxter. Sorry I haven't a card, or I would give you one," was the smooth rejoinder. "I do not wish your card," was the answer delivered in the most positive of tones. "Oh, all right.
A house-porter of the correct stamp appeared. "He lives here, Monsieur." Fandor offered his card, and the letter of introduction from M. Dupont. "Please see that these are handed to Monsieur de Naarboveck, and find out if he can receive me." The porter, having decided that the visitor was too well dressed to be left waiting on the steps, signed to the young man to follow him.
The inconvenience grew intolerable, and though she was now of a retiring habit, and shy of women, she went up to Wickham Place. Leonard returned in her absence. The card, the fatal card, was gone from the pages of Ruskin, and he guessed what had happened. "Well?" he had exclaimed, greeting her with peals of laughter. "I know where you've been, but you don't know where I've been."
Although pressed to stay for a while and join a card game that was about to start, he refused, declaring that he was tired and needed sleep, and would return to the place he was staying for the night, meaning, Garry decided for himself, the restaurant and rooming house conducted by LeBlanc's French friend.
Slavens looked at him severely from the shadow of his battered hat. The man lacked the bearing of one who inspires confidence; Slavens frowned his disapproval of the approach. "It means money to you," pressed the man, stretching out his hand and showing a card with numbers penciled on it.
Over went the marked card, and he lost again. Out he went, and when I saw him again the Captain was with him. I knew what was in the wind, and I stood my ground. The Captain said to me, "Have you been gambling on my boat?" "I do not know what you mean by that question," says I. "You don't?
I was resting in the lobby of our hotel after a strenuous day's work, when I found that I was being paged. I answered the summons, and was informed that a lady wished to see me. Her card bore the name "Miss Amelia Merridew." Amelia! The name seemed familiar. Then I remembered. Amelia was the name of the girl Vincent Jopp intended to marry, the fourth of the long line of Mrs. Jopps.
"Yes, my lord was telling me Lord Beaumaris was quite farouche, and it is feared that we may lose him. That would be sad," said Myra, "for he is powerful." "I should like very much if you could give me a card for Mr. Trenchard," said Endymion; "he is not in society, but he is quite a gentleman." "You shall have it, my dear. I have always liked Mr.
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