Stafford smoked a cigarette and sauntered back to the ballroom. He passed the group of city men again, and caught a word or two in the baron's gruff voice:
"I want to know how we shtand! The plow will shmash him; but the rest of us—us who are in de shwim. If de natives have risen—"
But Stafford paid little heed—forgot the words as soon as he had heard them; and went in search of his partner. While he was dancing, he was aware of that peculiar stir, that flutter and wave of excitement which agitates a crowd when something momentous is happening. He looked round and saw his father standing in the centre of a group of persons, men and women, who all seemed excited. There was loud talking, and sudden and spasmodic movements as fresh auditors to the restless group came up hurriedly and curiously.
"What is the matter, Mr. Orme?" asked the girl with whom he was dancing.
As she spoke he saw Maude detach herself from the group and approach them.
"Stafford—forgive me, Lady Blanche! but will you let him come to Sir
Stephen? He has just heard news—"
They followed her, and Sir Stephen seeing Stafford, held out his hand.
The old man was flushed and his dark eyes sparkled.
"Stafford!" he said, and his rich voice shook. "I have just heard—they have just brought me—"
He held up an official-looking paper with the great red seal on the envelope.
"It is from the prime minister—it is the peerage," said Maude, in a voice thrilling with restrained triumph.