“Your humble servant, madam,” said he. “May I entreat you to be seated?”
“Thank you, sir,” she answered, placing herself in the chair he handed to her. “I shall not detain you very long. I came to you on a matter of business.”
She betrayed a slight foreign accent in speaking; but there was something in the tone of her voice that attracted the baronet’s attention. It was a full, clear, and yet lightsome voice, varying easily through changing intonations, always harmonious and perfectly under control; it evinced self-possession and a musical ear. Sir Francis was already charmed, and summoned all his graces to confront the occasion. It was not every day that destiny brought to him such customers as this.
“I shall esteem myself fortunate in being able to be of any service to you,” he said, with a manner at once impressive and deferential.
“You are extremely good, sir.”
“I protest, madam—not in the least. May I inquire, madam, whether you are familiar with London?”
“I was in London a number of years ago, sir—I think it must now be ten years—”
“In that case, madam, you must have been very young—quite a child, in fact. The town may therefore have some novelty for you. Fortunately the season is just commencing, and—”
“Alas, sir, I am not in a position to avail myself of gayeties.”
“Indeed? Egad, madam, I protest you distress me.”