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Well, Miss Burgoyne might drive down to Richmond with Lord Denysfort or with any one else; he was not going to forsake Nina. On the afternoon appointed, just as it was dark, he called at the house in Sloane Street, and found the two young ladies ready, with nothing but their bonnets to put on.
"I am at your service, Miss Grace," said he, lightly. "How are you going down to Richmond on Sunday?" she asked at once. "By train, I suppose." There was a moment's silence perhaps she was waiting for him to ask a similar question. "Lord Denysfort is going to drive down," said the voice in the inner room. "Lord Denysfort!" he said, contemptuously. "What she is the attraction now?
"Nina, Nina," said he, "you want to make me outrageously vain. Do you imagine she had a single thought for me when she had Lord Denysfort to carry on with he hasn't much in his head, poor devil! but a title goes a long way in the theatrical world and when she could practise on the susceptibilities of her humble adorer who was further down the table?
Percival Miles put in an appearance, very shy and perhaps a little bewildered, for he knew not to whom he owed this invitation. Lionel had got a seat for him between Mlle. Girond and Mr. Carey, the musical conductor; if he could, and if he had dared, he would have placed him next Miss Burgoyne; but Miss Burgoyne was at the head of the table, between Lord Denysfort and Mr.
I don't like that kind of thing; it gets the theatre a bad name. If I were Lehmann, I wouldn't have a single stranger allowed in the wings." "Not unless they were your own friends," said the unseen young lady, complacently. "Now I know you're scowling. But I believe you are quite wrong. Lord Denysfort is simply a business acquaintance of Mr.
Lehmann, with the most shining shirt-front ever beheld, receiving his guests as they arrived. Here, too, was Lord Denysfort, a feeble-looking young man, with huge ears and no chin to speak of, who, however, had shown some sense in engaging a professional whip to drive the four-in-hand down through the fog.
Miss Girond did her best to amuse the good-looking boy whom she had been instrumental in rescuing from his solitary dinner in the coffee-room; but he did not respond as he ought to have done; from time to time he glanced wistfully towards the head of the table, where Miss Burgoyne was gayly chatting with Lord Denysfort.
She turned proudly away from him, without waiting for his reply. "Lord Denysfort, here I am," said she; and the chinless young man with the large ears gave her his arm and conducted her down the steps. Lionel looked after her bewildered.
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