“Ah, that is better! And you will bring our charming young friend here to fetch me?”
The Count shook his head. “I will fetch you, Mr. Vissering. Mademoiselle will be with my wife, waiting to greet you at La Solitude.”
“Did you say dinner would be at seven o’clock?” asked the old man. “It is my habit to lunch early, therefore I am hungry by seven.”
“It shall certainly be seven—or even half-past six, if you prefer it,” said the Count courteously.
“No, seven will do. I shall expect you here at half-past six. Oh—and a word more. I was much gratified the other day by your kindly giving me a card of admission to the Club. But I have not cared to use it, being alone. Would you mind coming down with me there to-night, and acting as my introducer?”
“I, being a Monegasque, have no right to enter the Club,” said the Count. “But I have many friends, any one of whom would be charmed to introduce you. I will see one of them, the Marchese Pescobaldi, about the matter at once on leaving here.”
“I thank you,” said Mr. Vissering slowly.
“And now we must be going home, Lily,” said the Count in a relieved tone. “Your aunt will be expecting us.”
The girl got up. Somehow she felt she did not want that strange old man even to touch her hand. She bowed distantly.
He accompanied them into the hall. “Till to-night, then,” he said in French. Then, breaking into English, he exclaimed, “And do not forget—do not forget what I told you just now, my fair young lady!”