“And of course I shall be delighted to show you the Houses of Parliament—some day that suits you. There are a lot of things I want to do for you. I want you to have a good time. And I should like very much to present some of my friends to you if it wouldn’t bore you. Then it would be awfully kind of you to come down to Branches.”
“We’re much obliged to you, Lord Lambeth,” said Bessie. “And what may Branches be?”
“It’s a house in the country. I think you might like it.”
Willie Woodley and Mrs. Westgate were at this moment sitting in silence, and the young man’s ear caught these last words of the other pair. “He’s inviting Miss Bessie to one of his castles,” he murmured to his companion.
Mrs. Westgate hereupon, foreseeing what she mentally called “complications,” immediately got up; and the two ladies, taking leave of their English friend, returned, under conduct of their American, to Jones’s Hotel.
V
Lord Lambeth came to see them on the morrow, bringing Percy Beaumont with him—the latter having at once declared his intention of neglecting none of the usual offices of civility. This declaration, however, on his kinsman’s informing him of the advent of the two ladies, had been preceded by another exchange.
“Here they are then and you’re in for it.”
“And what am I in for?” the younger man had inquired.
“I’ll let your mother give it a name. With all respect to whom,” Percy had added, “I must decline on this occasion to do any more police duty. The Duchess must look after you herself.”