Carrington bowed, and Miss Wilkins, maid or attendant, whichever she might be, retired to the remote end of the room, and promptly immersed herself in the only volume within reach, a French novel which Jack felt sure she had never seen before, and would not be likely to peruse to any great extent.
"You will naturally be surprised at my presence here this evening," said Lady Scarsdale.
Her host bowed and smiled, to show that pleasure and gratification were mingled; indeed, until she further declared her position he hardly knew how he ought to feel.
Her ladyship continued:
"My object in coming is unusual; it is, in short, to request your aid and assistance in a very extraordinary and delicate matter."
Jack bowed again, and his visitor proceeded:
"You will excuse me if I seem agitated"—she certainly did seem very much so, if red eyes and a quivering lip meant anything—"but I have scarcely recovered from the shock occasioned by the arrival of a telegram received this morning from a Mr. Allingford, at whose marriage, I think, you assisted."
"I was his best man."
"So I understand."
"Nothing wrong, I hope?"