Presently, through the flowers in her balcony, Cecil saw the opening and closing of the opposite house-door, and a white parasol unfurled, and she had only time to finish and address her letter to Mrs. Duncombe before Lady Tyrrell was announced.
“Here I am after a hard morning’s work, winding up accounts, &c.”
“You go to-morrow?”
“Yes, trusting that you will soon follow; though you might be a cockney born, your bloom is town-proof.”
“We follow as soon as the division on the Education Question is over, and that will not be for ten days. You are come to look at my stores for the bazaar; but first, what are you going to do this afternoon?”
“What are your plans?”
“I must leave cards at half-a-dozen people’s at the other end of the park. Will you come with me? Where is Lenore?”
“She is gone to take leave of the Strangeways’ party; Lady Susan insisted on having her for this last day. Poor Frank! I confess impartially that it does not look well for him.”
“Poor Frank!” repeated Cecil, “he does look very forlorn when he hears where she is.”
“When, after all, if the silly boy could only see it, it is the most fortunate thing that could happen to him, and the only chance of keeping his head above water. I have made Lady Susan promise me two of her daughters for the bazaar. They thoroughly know how to make themselves useful. Oh, how pretty!”