"Do you think you could keep Lord Charles on the tennis-lawn, here, for half-an-hour?"
"Why?" asked Lady Wyndward. "Yes, I think so."
"Do so, then," replied Lady Lenore, "I will tell you why afterward. Lord Charles is very clever, no doubt, but I think I am cleverer, don't you?"
"I think you are all that is good and beautiful, my dear," sighed the anxious mother.
"Dear Lady Wyndward," softly murmured the beauty. "Well, keep him chained here for half-an-hour, and leave the rest to me. I am not apt to ask unreasonable requests, dear."
"No. I'll do anything you want or tell me," replied Lady Wyndward. "I am full of anxious fears, Lenore. Do you know what it means?"
Lady Lenore hesitated.
"No. I do not know, but I think I can guess. See, here he comes."
Lord Charles came striding along, swinging the racquet.
"Here you are, Lady Lenore. Is that the right one?"