“How, your Grace?” asked Frank.
“Don’t trouble me with details. Do as I tell you.”
“Very good, your Grace.”
“And let Miss Hordern arrive here at seven a’clock.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
“That will do, Frank. I shall not go out to-day. Leave the corduroys on the bed.”
“Thank you, your Grace.”
“And, Frank, in case I change my mind, let there be a motor-car here and a table at the Savoy this evening, rather late.”
“I’ll attend to it at once, your Grace.”
There was more work than usual at the local telegraph office before ten that morning. But no one connected it with the cottage at the allotments. The young woman in charge understood that a gentleman had lost his motor-car.