"It is for Mrs. Allonby's, m'm, isn't it? For one-fifteen; one-fifteen Allonby, Richards, seven to-night. You needn't have come; he'll be there sharp."
Louie was looking steadily at her father. "You've made a mistake," she said.
"What? Hi, Judson! What's this?"
"I came—I came—with the gentleman who's just asked for you. Don't you—don't you——" she faltered and stopped.
"But aren't you from Mrs. Allonby's?"
Louie was conscious that she was becoming pitifully flurried. She could not believe now that she had ever thought this would be an easy thing to do. And she would have to do it all herself; he had a handsome, slightly pompous face, but it was not the face of a man who apprehends things by intuition. She tried again.
"You are Mr. Causton, aren't you?"
"Beg pardon, m'm? You see, one ear——" The Piker had burst the drum of one of Buck's ears. He inclined his head. "What did you say, m'm?"
Suddenly Louie put one hand on the shaft of the trap and sank half sitting on the step. The trap dipped. Her pallor was now extreme.
"The gentleman who wishes to see you——" she began again.