“Wolfenden is, I believe, the family name of the Deringhams? May I ask, are you any relation to Admiral Lord Deringham?”
Wolfenden was suddenly grave.
“Yes,” he answered; “he is my father. Did you ever meet him?”
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
“No, I have heard of him abroad; also, I believe, of the Countess of Deringham, your mother. It is many years ago. I trust that I have not inadvertently——”
“Not at all,” Wolfenden declared. “My father is still alive, although he is in very delicate health. I wonder, would you and your niece do me the honour of having some tea with me? It is Ladies’ Day at the ‘Geranium Club,’ and I should be delighted to take you there if you would allow me.”
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
Wolfenden had the satisfaction of seeing the girl look disappointed.
“We are very much obliged to you,” Mr. Sabin said, “but I have an appointment which is already overdue. You must not mind, Helène, if we ride the rest of the way.”
He turned and hailed a passing hansom, which drew up immediately at the kerb by their side. Mr. Sabin handed his niece in, and stood for a moment on the pavement with Wolfenden.