“Scarlett Trent—you may not know me, but Lady Tresham, Lord Colliston, and the Earl of Howton are amongst my guests.”
The man saw no more difficulties. The name of Scarlett Trent was the name which impressed him. The English aristocrat he had but little respect for, but a millionaire was certainly next to the gods.
“We must arrange the table crossways, sir, at the end of the room,” he said. “And about the flowers?”
“The best, and as many as you can get,” Trent answered shortly. “I have a 100 pound note with me. I shall not grumble if I get little change out of it, but I want value for the money.”
“You shall have it, sir!” the man answered significantly—and he kept his word.
Trent reached the theatre only as the people were streaming out. In the lobby he came face to face with Ernestine and Francis. They were talking together earnestly, but ceased directly they saw him.
“I have been telling Captain Francis,” Ernestine said, “of your delightful invitation.”
“I hope that Captain Francis will join us,” Trent said coldly.
Francis stepped behind for a moment to light a cigarette.
“I shall be delighted,” he answered.