A gentleman who was standing beside Colonel Wyndham in the middle of the saloon had been looking at Miss Taverner in a dreamy, unconcerned way, but when he saw her take out her snuff-box a look of interest came into his eyes, and he wandered away from the Colonel, and came towards the sofa. He said very earnestly to Worth: “Please present me! Such a pretty box! What I should call a nice visiting-box, but not suitable for morning wear. I was tempted when they showed it to me, but it did not happen to be just what I was looking for.”
Judith stared at him in a good deal of astonishment, but Lord Worth, betraying no hint of surprise, merely said: “Lord Petersham, Miss Taverner,” and got up.
Lord Petersham begged permission to sit beside Miss Taverner. “Tell me,” he said anxiously, “are you interested in tea, I wonder?”
She was not interested in tea, but she knew that his lordship had a room lined with canisters of every imaginable kind, from Gunpowder to Lapsang Souchong. She confessed her ignorance, and felt that she had disappointed him.
“It is a pity, a great pity,” he said. “You would find it almost as interesting as snuff. And you are interested in that, are you not? You have your own mixture; I saw the jar at Fribourg and Treyer’s.”
Miss Taverner produced her box. “I wish you will do me the honour of trying my sort,” she said.
“Mine will be the honour,” said his lordship, bowing. He dipped his finger and thumb in her box, and held a pinch to his nostrils, half-closing his eyes. “Spanish bran—a hint of Brazil—something else besides, possibly a dash of masulipatam.” He turned. “It reminds me of a mixture I think I have had in your house, Julian.”
“Impossible!” said Worth.
“Well, perhaps it is not precisely the same,” conceded Lord Petersham, turning back to Miss Taverner. “A very delicate mixture, ma’am. It is easy to detect the hand and unerring taste of an expert.”
Miss Taverner, with her guardian’s ironic eye upon her, had the grace to blush.