“Dear Countess,—
“I have something of great importance to say to you; if you read the papers you will doubtless guess to what I refer. Will you, in your own interest, be good enough to remove for once the embargo you have laid on my visits, and be at home when I call at four this afternoon?
“Yours sincerely,
“Aubrey Playford.”
She read it through twice, and as she did so, she seemed to be struggling to evade the grip of a strong will that lurked beneath the words. Then, mechanically, she put the note back into its envelope and turned to glance at the clock. It was nearly four. She hesitated for a few moments, as taking counsel with herself; then rang the bell.
“I am at home to Mr. Playford when he calls this afternoon,” she told the man, giving the order with a plain-spoken authority which disarmed all suspicion of an impropriety.
She had not long to wait before the expected visitor was announced.
Playford came in deferentially confident and inscrutable, and as Alexia rose to receive him her eyes met his boldly in a look of challenge.
“Bring tea,” she said casually to the man as he left the room. She was not going to indue this unwelcome visit with any mysterious importance.
“It was good of you, Countess, to grant my request,” Playford said, as he sat down, and let his eyes rest with covetous admiration on the beautiful woman before him. “I hope it has not been inconvenient; but the matter on which it was necessary to see you was urgent.”
“Not at all,” she answered coolly. “I have had some people to luncheon, and they have only just gone. What did you want to tell me?”