"You dreadful man, how you bellow! Yes; Diabella has a tent in the grounds at the back of The Georgian Hall--we hope it will be a sunny afternoon, you know--and intends to charge everyone ten shillings. You know, she usually charges a guinea, but we think we'll get more by asking less."
"But I thought," Vernon carefully commanded his voice, "I thought, that Diabella had retired from business?"
"So she has. That delightful Granny has taken her business. I'm going to see her and ask about my Affinity."
"Your husband?"
"Oh, no," said Mrs. Crimer airily; "he's only my husband, you know. But I must have an Affinity: someone who is a spiritual lover. And Granny----"
Vernon ruthlessly cut her short. "How did you get Diabella?"
"Really, I don't know," murmured Mrs. Crimer vaguely. "Someone asked her, or she asked herself. I don't know which. But she is to be there in her Egyptian dress and wearing an Egyptian mask and in an Egyptian tent. Do go and have your fortune told."
"I shall," said Vernon grimly, and inwardly rejoicing over the chance that was placing Diabella in his power. "And do you----"
"No." Mrs. Crimer spread out her hands with a shrug. "I really can't talk to you any more. Everyone is going and I have heaps and heaps of dear, delightful people to see. Good-bye! so glad you will come to the bazaar. Quite angelic it will be--quite--quite." And the flippant lady babbled her way to the hostess, who was now taking rapid leave of her various guests. Lucy had disappeared, as Vernon soon learned by a glance round the room, so he sat down and waited until Lady Corsoon could give him her promised ten minutes' explanation. He would have liked to have had a chat with Sir Julius, if only to enlist him in favour of the marriage by dropping a hint regarding the expected inheritance. But the financier rarely put in an appearance at his wife's "At Homes," finding them far too frivolous for a man of his capacity. So Vernon decided that if Lady Corsoon's explanation did not prove satisfactory he would interview Sir Julius and formally ask for the hand of Lucy. With the credentials of a soon-coming title, a lordly mansion and three thousand a year, he hoped to have his proposals well received. At a former interview the baronet had scoffed at his pretensions; but now things were changed for the better, and the chances were that all would go well.
"Now, Mr. Vernon," said Lady Corsoon, when the last guest had shaken hands and departed, "we are alone and can have a talk. What news of your search?"