“A very nice affair she’s made of it!” commented the elder man, as he finished his explanation, interspersed with discursive items of news of all sorts appertaining to society and its doings. “A little loud, of course; that goes without saying; and, really, nowadays it’s rather the thing! A pretty girl in her way, Mrs. Compton. And talking of pretty girls, Maud Pomeroy looked well. They’ve been at Cannes since the end of January; only just back, like yourself.”
“So I heard,” answered Loring indifferently. “By-the-bye, I didn’t see the Romaynes. Aren’t they in town? I’ve not had time to look any one up yet, of course, but I thought I should see Julian to-day.”
Lord Garstin paused a moment before he answered.
“They were there,” he said. “I saw them come in. You’ll see them at the house, no doubt. The little woman’s been invisible for two or three days; ill—rather bad, somebody said.”
“Ill!” echoed Loring; and there was a genuine surprise in his tone which no information yet bestowed upon him had evoked. “Really!” He paused a moment, and then said, with his own peculiar smile: “And how is Julian? Does the hard-working line hold out?”
Lord Garstin smiled, more pleasantly than Loring had done, and shrugged his shoulders.
“Pretty well, I suppose,” he said. “I met his chief the other night, and he was not enthusiastic. He’s a nice boy, though. You’re a great chum of his, aren’t you, Loring?” Loring nodded. “Then let me give you a hint to have an eye to his proceedings at the club. Cards are all very well, you know, but a boy like that should be moderate. You might be able to talk to him about it. I gave his mother a hint a few weeks ago. She’s a nice little woman. See what you can do, will you? I’ve got an idea that the foolish fellow doesn’t play only at the club.”
They were close to Mrs. Halse’s house as Lord Garstin finished, and his last words were spoken quickly and significantly. Loring answered only by a slight movement of his eyebrows, and then they were in the hall, being swept on by a seething crowd to pay their respects to the hostess and the bride.
“Loring, old man! How are you?”
Loring and Lord Garstin had been thrown together again after offering their congratulations, and they were standing side by side. Julian Romayne was close beside them, having come up from behind through the crowd unperceived, his hand eagerly, even demonstratively, outstretched.