Both he and Lord Watergate lingered in York Place till the other guests had departed, when they fell upon Frank for further information respecting the photographic studio.
"It doesn't look as if it paid them," remarked Darrell, by way of administering a damper to loyal Frank's enthusiasm.
"I wonder," said Lord Watergate, "if they would think it worth while to prepare some slides for me?"
"For the Royal Institution lectures?" Darrell sat down to the piano as he spoke, and ran his hands over the keys. "She is a charming creature—Phyllis."
"Charming!" cried Frank; "and so is Miss Lucy. And Gertrude is charming, too; she is the clever one."
"Oh, yes, Gertrude is the clever one; you can see that by her boots."
Meanwhile the Lorimers and the Devonshires were walking up Baker Street together, engaged, on their part also, in discussing the people from whom they had just parted.
"You are quite wrong, Gerty, about Mr. Darrell," cried Phyllis; "he is very nice, and great fun."
"What, the fellow with the goatee?" said Fred.
"Oh, Fred, his beautiful Vandyke beard!"