The servant bent down and whispered:
“Lord Carboro’.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Barclay. “Would your ladyship object to meet Lord Carboro’?”
“Yes. Horrors!” exclaimed her ladyship. “Or no, never mind; let him come up. I have called to inspect some of your china—these Sèvres jars.”
Barclay nodded to his man, who left the room; and, in support of her ladyship’s suggestion, the money-lender was saying: “It’s an opportunity, my dear madam, that does not often occur; the workmanship is unique,” when Lord Carboro’ was shown in, and his keen eyes glittered as he took in the situation at a glance.
“Ah, Lady Drelincourt, you here!”
“Yes, I’m here,” she said, “but I’ve not come to borrow money; have you?”
“Yes,” said his lordship sharply. “Barclay, a word with you.”
The money-lender bowed.
“Don’t change countenance,” said his lordship, “and talk about money. Get out your cash-box, and make believe to give me some.”