No date, of course. The General, nevertheless, ordered his hack at half-past two, in confident expectation of finding his correspondent at home.
He was ushered into, perhaps, the prettiest boudoir in London—a nest of muslin, fillagree, porcelain, and exotics, with a miniature aviary in one window, a miniature aquarium in the other, a curtain over the door, and a fountain opposite the fire-place. Here he had an opportunity of admiring her taste before the fair owner appeared, examining in turn all the ornaments on her chimney-piece and writing-table, amongst which, with pardonable ostentation, a beautifully-mounted photograph of her husband was put in the most conspicuous place.
He was considering what on earth could have induced her to marry its original, when the door opened for the lady in person, who appeared, fresh, smiling, and exceedingly well-dressed. Though she had kept her visitor waiting, he could not grudge the time thus spent when he observed how successfully it had been turned to account.
"You got my note," said she, pulling a low chair for him close to the sofa on which she seated herself. "I wonder, if you wondered why I wanted to see you!"
The experience of St. Josephs had taught him it is well to let these lively fish run out plenty of line before they are checked, so he bowed, and said, "He hoped she had found something in which he could be of use."
"Use!" repeated the lady. "Then you want me to think you consider yourself more useful than ornamental. General, I should like to know if you are the least bit vain?"
"A little, perhaps, of your taking me up," he replied, laughing; "of nothing else, I think, in the world."
She stole a glance at him from under her eyelashes, none the less effective that these had been darkened before she came down. "And yet, I am sure, you might be," she said softly, with something of a sigh.
The process, he thought, was by no means unpleasant; a man could undergo it a long time without being tired.