The first few days after Glynn's return to London were so crowded by important engagements and serious consultations with the elder members of his firm as to the advisability of a new and important undertaking, to which Glynn was entirely opposed, that he had no time for deliberate thought respecting Lambert and his mysterious acquaintance with Deering. Yet the subject was never quite out of his mind. A vague unreasonable anxiety about Elsie haunted him, and he was strangely eager to return to Paris.
The earliest spare moment he could find was devoted to Lady Gethin.
She was out when he called, but next morning's post brought him a pressing invitation to dinner, of which he gladly availed himself. He would have liked to take counsel with the shrewd old woman, and yet he did not think it loyal to Lambert, who evidently trusted him, to be too confidential.
Her hospitable ladyship, however, was not alone. A small, pleasant party, some writers of light literature, a traveller, a smart grass-widow from India, a clever barrister, and his pretty, accomplished daughter, to whom Glynn was already known, were assembled when he arrived, and dinner was a feast of good things in more senses than one. Afterwards there was music. The grass-widow played brilliantly, the pretty young lady sang very nicely, had a sweet voice, and had been well trained. But Glynn could only think of the contrast between her singing and Miss Lambert's; of the mellow, tender richness of the latter's notes, which seemed to come from the heart to the heart, compared with the lighter though pleasant timbre of the other,—the sweet, simple earnestness of the one, and the easy smiling surface, good breeding of the cultivated London girl.
"Don't leave till the others have gone," whispered Lady Gethin, as she passed him when following her lady guests from the dining-room.
It was the height of the season, every one had more engagements than they could well manage; the party therefore broke up early, its members dispersing to balls, concerts, or receptions.
"Now then, have a little iced seltzer and cognac, it is quite warm this evening," said Lady Gethin; "and let us have a long talk—that letter of yours whetted my curiosity. What in the world has kept you away so long? every one has been asking for you!"
"Partly business, and partly curiosity."
"What about?"
"I will tell you presently. Have you seen Lady Frances Deering lately?"