"This" was a huge black case bottle, which trifle of glass the lady of Redmon brandished in a manner that made even Midge draw back a few paces in alarm.
"I want Mr. Darcy on important business, I do!" screamed Lady Leroy. "And tell him not to let the grass grow under his feet on the way. Be off, will you?"
"Why didn't you tell Miss Natty?" sulkily said Midge.
"Because she isn't coming back till nine o'clock, that's why; and I can't wait. Well, what do you want, young woman?"
This last polite interrogation was addressed to Miss Nettleby, who stood smiling in the doorway, in all the splendor of her charms.
"I just ran up to see how you were," said Cherrie. "If you want any errand done in the town, Mrs. Leroy, I'll go. I can walk faster than Midge, you know."
"So she can," cried Midge; "let her go, ma'am; I won't."
With which Midge waddled off, making the hall quake with her airy tread. Mrs. Leroy looked with unusual graciousness at the young lady.
"Will you go, Cherrie, and be quick about it. Tell Darcy to hurry; you can drive back with him, you know."
Cherrie wanted nothing better, and was off like a dart, scenting a secret, and determined to get at the bottom of it.