“Yes. He’s been staying for a couple of days at The Chase, and as he goes to London to-morrow I asked him to join us this evening.”
To none of Anne’s visitors but the doctor was the Frenchman’s name significant.
Dymfield was not interested in the world of art. Very few of its inhabitants had ever heard of the International Art Congress, and even if they had, it would have conveyed nothing to their minds.
Nevertheless, a tremor of excitement and curiosity passed over the faces of Mrs. Carfax and Mrs. Dakin.
Strangers at Dymfield were rare, and a visitor who was staying at The Chase, as the guest of Lord Farringchurch was on that account alone, a distinguished if not an alarming personality.
“A Frenchman!” exclaimed Mrs. Carfax. “I hope he speaks English?” she added below her breath.
“Oh, perfectly,” Anne assured her, as the door opened.
“Monsieur Fontenelle!”
Burks, who had frequently accompanied her mistress in foreign travel, delivered the name with commendable swing and correctness of accent.
The man who entered looked considerably younger than his forty-seven years. Slight, still elegant in figure, his face possessed the distinction of clear-cut features, combined with an expression which only the charm of his smile saved from a suspicion of arrogance.