She hurried again into the cab and searched it thoroughly; but no purse was to be found.
Then the truth burst upon her; she had been robbed of it by someone in the crowd of visitors in Holyrood Palace; her pocket had probably been picked while she stood in the picture gallery dreaming before the portrait of King James. How she reproached herself for her carelessness in taking so considerable an amount of money with her.
She was excessively agitated; but she managed to control herself sufficiently to speak calmly to the waiter, and say:
"Be good enough to pay this man and put the item in my bill"
The waiter obeyed and discharged the cab; for, of course, the name of Lady Vincent was as yet a passport to credit. Then she hurried to her room in a state of great agitation that nearly deprived her of all power to think or act. She rang the bell, which brought a waiter to her presence.
"I would like to see the landlord of this hotel," she said.
"I beg your pardon, my lady, but the proprietor lives out of town," returned the man.
"Then send the clerk of the house, or the head waiter, or whoever is in charge here."
"I will send the clerk, my lady," said the waiter, retiring.
The clerk soon made his appearance.