Bruce held up his hand for silence.
"What are the boys saying in Piccadilly?" he asked.
The cries came nearer; a familiar name was mentioned.
"Latest society scandal!" came the shrill voices. "Latest society sensation! Flight of the Countess Lalage!"
[CHAPTER XLIX.]
IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT.
The story flashed like lightning from one end of London to the other. Leona Lalage had been an important personage. Her face was familiar to the society paper window; no report of a great function was complete without a description of her dress. She was a constant source of "copy" to the paragraphists; her dinners and her parties were things to imitate and envy. And now the crash had come.
It was the sensation of the hour. Every penny paper had a portrait of sorts of Leona Lalage. The wildest rumours were afloat. As far as anybody knew for the present, the Countess was not at home, and the servants could give no clue as to her whereabouts.
Tomorrow a whole hoard of tradesmen would be down upon Lytton Avenue, but for the present Hetty was left in peace. Mamie was very far from well, flushed and feverish, so that at eleven o'clock she decided to call in Bruce. She rang the bell, but no servant appeared. She rang again, and went down presently into the basement to investigate.