Mademoiselle Le Breton, who had moved a few steps away from the stair-head with Sir Wilfrid Bury, turned hastily. A slight, small woman, delicately fair and sparkling with diamonds, was coming up the stairs alone.
"My dear," said the new-comer, holding out her hands eagerly to Mademoiselle Le Breton, "I felt I must just run in and have a look at you. But Freddie says that I've got to meet him at that tiresome Foreign Office! So I can only stay ten minutes. How are you?"--then, in a lower voice, almost a whisper, which, however, reached Sir Wilfrid Bury's ears--"worried to death?"
Mademoiselle Le Breton raised eyes and shoulders for a moment, then, smiling, put her finger to her lip.
"You're coming to me to-morrow afternoon?" said the Duchess, in the same half-whisper.
"I don't think I can get away."
"Nonsense! My dear, you must have some air and exercise! Jacob, will you see she comes?"
"Oh, I'm no good," said that young man, turning away. "Duchess, you remember Sir Wilfrid Bury?"
"She would be an unnatural goddaughter if she didn't," said that gentleman, smiling. "She may be your cousin, but I knew her before you did."
The young Duchess turned with a start.
"Sir Wilfrid! A sight for sair een. When did you get back?"