"None, and was quite cross when I asked for one."
This view of Lady Corsoon's attitude was supported by the fact that on seeing Vernon conversing so earnestly with Lucy she called to the girl to come to her. Ostensibly this was to present her daughter to a fashionable countess who had lately arrived, but Vernon guessed that she really wished to end the _tête-à-tête_. This was curious, considering the conversation which he had held with his proposed mother-in-law at the office of Nemo. It was evident that she had changed her mind once more, and as Lady Corsoon was not a weathercock, Vernon wondered what powerful cause could have brought about the alteration. However, he gave up speculation as he wandered about the room, speaking to his friends, and promised himself a full explanation when the company departed. As Lady Corsoon had asked him to remain it was evident that she intended to let him know what was the matter. And Vernon determined not to leave the house until he _did_ know. Shortly the young man was captured by a flippant lady, voluble and somewhat silly, who gave him a surprising piece of information. "Oh, Mr. Vernon, I am so glad to see you," she babbled gushingly, "you really must come to the--the bazaar--the great bazaar."
"Never heard of it, Mrs. Crimer."
"You silly man; don't you read the papers? One of the Princesses is to have a stall, and no end of actresses and society people. It's to be held at The Georgian Hall in aid of Homeless Hindoos."
"Really!" said Vernon idly, "why are they homeless?"
"Oh, I don't exactly know," gushed Mrs. Crimer vaguely; "it's a flood, or a fire, or a blizzard."
"I don't think they have blizzards in India."
"Perhaps they don't; how clever you are, Mr. Vernon. But all I do know is that the poor things want money, and we hope to make heaps by this bazaar. There will be lovely things sold, and games and flower stalls and sweets and fortune-telling," babbled the flippant lady incoherently.
"Fortune-telling?" Vernon, paying little attention, only caught the last word with any degree of clearness. "Of course. What would bazaars be without fortune-telling? And this time it's really genuine. Diabella----"
"What!" Vernon spoke so loudly that several people jumped, and the flippant Mrs. Crimer put her gloved hands to her ears with a pretty gesture of pain.