I did not hear the immediate reply. More fussy than ever, Mr. Baggs had already signed to me to reopen the door.
"Lord Douglas Wychwoode," he murmured hurriedly in my ear. "One of the younger sons of the Marquis of Sidbury. I am indeed fortunate to-day. The scions of our great Nobility do seek my help and counsel..." and more such senseless words did he utter, whilst the two young Gentlemen paused for a moment upon the landing, talking with one another.
"I thought you still in France," Lord Douglas said to his friend. "What hath brought you home so unexpectedly?"
"I only arrived this morning," the other replied; "and hoped to present my respects this evening, if your Father and the Lady Barbara will receive me."
"Indeed, they'll be delighted. Cela va sans dire, my friend. My sister has been rather pensive of late. Your prolonged absence may have had something to do with her mood."
"May you speak the truth there!" my Lord Stour remarked with a sigh.
"But now you have not told me," rejoined Lord Douglas, as he and his friend finally went into the room and curtly acknowledged Mr. Baggs' reiterated salutations, "what hath brought you to the house of this bobbing old Thief yonder."
"Private business," replied Lord Stour. "And you?"
"The affairs of England," said the other, and tossed his head proudly like some young Lion scenting battle.
Before his friend could utter another remark, Lord Douglas strode rapidly across the room, took some papers out of the inner pocket of his coat, and called to Mr. Baggs to come up closer to him.