He had commenced speaking in a free and familiar tone, such as a man adopts who is addressing one for whom he has no great feeling of respect, but before he had uttered even these few words his tone altered. Mrs. Lenoir had taken unusual pains with her dress, and she presented so different an appearance from that which he expected--she looked so gentle and lady-like--that he was compelled into a more deferential and respectful manner.
"I am glad you are come," said Mrs. Lenoir; "I was afraid you might forget your promise, or that it had been given lightly."
"What promise?" he asked.
"That I should see her again--the young lady who was with you last night."
"Oh, the Duchess!" he exclaimed involuntarily, and the next moment biting his lips at the betrayal.
"The Duchess!" echoed Mrs. Lenoir, in amazement.
"A pet name," he said quickly. "You shall see her again, as I promised. But I have come on a different matter. I lost a silver cigar-case last night. Have you got it?"
Mrs. Lenoir rose, and gazed at him in perplexity and fear.
"I will swear I had it about me as I assisted you home. When you left me in the passage I took off my overcoat, and it dropped out of my pocket perhaps. I don't mean anything worse than that. Did you find it?"
"I don't understand you; I have not seen it. Lizzie, did you see anything in the passage when you came down to me last night?"