“Matter? Pish! Well, yes. I’m thinking I’d better be off, for fear, instead of my converting you, you’ll be taking advantage of my weakness, offering me a share in Sir Robert and Lady Gowan for a bribe, and converting me.”
“I wish I could,” said Frank to himself, as his companion hurried out of the room. “Why not? Suppose I were to take my mother into my confidence, and ask her to try and win him away from what is sure to end in a great trouble!”
Chapter Twelve.
The Trouble Grows.
Frank was thinking in this strain when he went to his mother’s rooms in the Palace soon after, and her maid showed him at once to where she was sitting reading, having dressed for the Princess’s reception in good time, so as to be free to receive her son.
“Oh!” ejaculated the maid, as she was just about to leave the room; and there was a look of dismay in her countenance.
“What is it?” cried Lady Gowan, turning sharply with her son clasped in her arms.
“Your dress, my lady—the lace. It will be crushed flat.”