The page-boy was now holding out the salver with the card on it, almost as if in self-protection. Her eyes fell on it against her will, and she saw there were four printed words on it. On Arabian’s card there were only two: Nicolas Arabian. Instantly she stretched out her hand and took the card up—
“General Sir Seymour Portman.”
Her relief was so great that she could not conceal it.
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
“Ma’am?” said the boy, looking more official.
“Please run down—”
“Run ma’am?”
“Yes—down at once and bring the gentleman up to my sitting-room. Be as quick as you can.”
The page retired with a stiff back and rather slow-moving legs.
So Adela had wasted no time! She had been as good as her word. What a splendid woman she was!