Delafield refused, declaring that all he wanted was an hour or two's sleep.
"I go back to Paris to-morrow," he said, as he prepared to take his leave. "Will you be here to-night if I look in?"
"Alack! we go to Scotland to-night! It was just a piece of luck that you found me this morning. Freddie is fuming to get away."
Delafield paused a moment. Then he abruptly shook hands and went.
"He wants news of what happens at St. James's Square," thought the Duchess, suddenly, and she ran after him to the top of the stairs. "Jacob! If you don't mind a horrid mess to-night, Freddie and I shall be dining alone--of course we must have something to eat. Somewhere about eight. Do look in. There'll be a cutlet--on a trunk--anyway."
Delafield laughed, hesitated, and finally accepted.
The Duchess went back to the drawing-room, not a little puzzled and excited.
"It's very, very odd," she said to herself. "And what is the matter with Jacob?"
Half an hour later she drove to the splendid house in St. James's Square where Lord Lackington lay dying.