‘He does a great deal for the poor at Beaumanoir. A very fine place, is it not?’
‘Very.’
‘As fine as Coningsby?’
‘At present, with Mrs. Guy Flouncey at Coningsby, Beaumanoir would have no chance.’
‘Ah! you laugh at me again! Now tell me, Mr. Coningsby, what do you think we shall do to-night? I look upon you, you know, as the real arbiter of our destinies.’
‘You shall decide,’ said Coningsby.
‘Mon cher Harry,’ said Madame Colonna, coming up, ‘they wish Lucretia to sing and she will not. You must ask her, she cannot refuse you.’
‘I assure you she can,’ said Coningsby.
‘Mon cher Harry, your grandpapa did desire me to beg you to ask her to sing.’
So Coningsby unwillingly approached Lucretia, who was talking with the Russian Ambassador.