“Oh, my dearest Lady Kilcroney, what a sad, strange contretemps!”
Even as she spoke that green eye became fixed. One of Kitty’s magnificent footmen was approaching, bearing a letter on a salver. My Lady read it, glanced at Mrs. Lafone, and then turned to Lady Ann: “The Prince is coming, after all, Nan. How strange—” she turned back to Molly—“that you should this moment have suggested the possibility.”
Mistress Lafone had recognised in a single flash the great folded sheet that she had herself prepared and sealed with so much amusement, to the accompaniment of the protests of the rather doubtful, yet not altogether unwilling Beau. The seal had been Molly’s triumph. What will not a determined woman accomplish? She had actually got possession of the kind of wafer habitually used by the Prince. Like mistress, like maid, it is said: Mistress Molly’s own maid was as much of a minx as her mistress. She had started flirtations with every likely scoundrel about Weymouth before she had been a fortnight in the place. One of the drawers at the Crown Inn had thought it a small price to pay for the smiles of Jenny Jinks to give her, as a keepsake, a few wafers out of the Prince’s own ivory box, off the writing-table in the room occupied by His Royal Highness.
“The Prince coming after all!” cried Nan Day joyfully. She was genuinely fond of Kitty, but even if she had not been so, to see Lafone discomfited would have been delightful to her.
This latter was seized with a fit of tittering, and was fain to retire, fanning herself violently and simulating a threat of the vapours.
Lady Ann looked after her contemptuously.
“She can hardly conceal her spite,” quoth she. “Ah, Kitty, I believe you knew the Prince was coming all the while, and that was why you invited that little rascal!”
Kitty had upon this, as even the obtuse Nan could not but notice, a singular smile.
Certainly it would have been a thousand pities had my Lady Kilcroney’s entertainment fallen flat, for never had even her bright wits and long purse made more charming and sumptuous preparations.
The Assembly Rooms had been transmogrified into a fairy bower, with hangings of white silk, and garlands of roses. The band was surpassing itself: the supper, no doubt, would be unsurpassable. There was a special supper-room prepared off the great ball-room, where, it was hinted, such delicacies would be served as would tickle the jaded palate of the Prince. If he had not come ’twould have been a catastrophe. Yes, positively a catastrophe for my Lady Kilcroney.