"Hope to goodness you are," declared his lordship. "Stay for a week or two, anyhow: and,"—he lowered his voice to a husky whisper, leaning toward her—"let me trot you about a bit, eh? You'll maybe see more than enough of him by and by!" He indicated Slyne with an eloquent elbow, and further expressed his sentiments by means of an ardent sigh.
Beyond the blossom-laden épergne, Mr. Jobling and Captain Dove, almost cut off from other intercourse by that barrier, were exchanging coldly critical glances. Neither seemed to be quite at his ease with the other, and both had, of course, a great many urgent questions to put to Slyne as soon as the Marquis of Ingoldsby should be gone. So that the luncheon-party must have proved a very dull affair to them, and they were no doubt glad when it was over.
Slyne signalled to Sallie as soon as coffee was served, and she rose to leave the room. She was quite accustomed to being promptly dispensed with whenever her company might have been inconvenient.
"Oh, I say!" protested Lord Ingoldsby. "You're not goin' yet, Lady J. Half a mo'. Won't you come for a spin with me now that the car's mine? Just say the word and I'll drop my other engagement. And then we could dine at—"
"Lady Josceline will be engaged with her lawyer all afternoon," Slyne cut him short with the utmost coolness, "and she's leaving Monte Carlo again to-night."
The Marquis of Ingoldsby glowered at him.
"I'll see you in Paris, then, Lady J.," he went on, pointedly ignoring Slyne, "or in London, at least, later on. Well, good-bye—if you must be goin'."
He bowed her out of the room, and then, snatching up his hat and cane with very visible annoyance, included the others in a curt nod of farewell and made off himself.
He passed her before she had closed her own door—and would gladly have paused there.
"You won't forget me, will you?" she heard him ask eagerly from behind her. But she did not delay to answer that question.