The street was as quiet as a village street. At an open window over the way, a handsome lady, wrapped in a muslin peignoir, sat sipping her cup of chocolate. It was La Signora Gambogi, and Mr. Aeneas made her many elaborate bows. This morning, however, her thoughts seemed far away, and she did not notice the little man's polite efforts. Nettled at her negligence, Mr. Aeneas was on the point of retiring into his shop, when he saw Lord George Hell hastening up the street, with a posy of wild flowers in his hand.
"His Lordship is up betimes!" he said to himself. "An early visit to La Signora, I suppose."
Not so, however. His Lordship came straight towards the mask-shop. Once he glanced up at Signora's window and looked deeply annoyed when he saw her sitting there. He came quickly into the shop.
"I want the mask of a saint," he said.
"Mask of a saint, my Lord? Certainly!" said Mr. Aeneas, briskly. "With or without halo? His Grace the Bishop of St. Aldred's always wears his with a halo? Your Lordship does not wish for a halo? Certainly! If your Lordship will allow me to take his measurement——"
"I must have the mask to-day," Lord George said. "Have you none ready-made?"
"Ah, I see. Required for immediate wear," murmured Mr. Aeneas, dubiously. "You see, your Lordship takes a rather large size." And he looked at the floor.
"Julius!" he cried suddenly to his assistant, who was putting the finishing touches to a mask of Barbarossa which the young king of Zürremburg was to wear at his coronation the following week. "Julius! Do you remember the saint's mask we made for Mr. Ripsby, a couple of years ago?"
"Yes, sir," said the boy. "It's stored upstairs."
"I thought so," replied Mr. Aeneas. "Mr. Ripsby only had it on hire. Step upstairs, Julius, and bring it down. I fancy it is just what your Lordship would wish. Spiritual, yet handsome."