Suppose she was not Number One, after all? Supposing the commission—
"I could kill him!" she hissed, and left the room.
Frederick came to her. "Miss Goodchild, there are five reporters waiting to see you."
"Say I'm not at home!" Then she called the man back. "Ask them what they want," and went up-stairs to her room.
Frederick returned presently and reported: "They say they will do themselves the honor to inform you in person if you will be kind enough to see them. And, Miss—" He paused. He had exceeded his duty.
"What is it, Frederick?" asked Grace, knowing that the imperturbable cockney was perturbed.
"There is quite a crowd outside. They are photographing the ladies, ma'am."
"What ladies?"
"Begging your pardon, Miss Vandergilt and the others, ma'am."
"Where?"