Throwing away my cigarette into the fire, I got up from my chair.
"Thanks very much," I said; "but at present I don't think there is anything I want to bother Whitehall about. I shall remember your offer, though. Perhaps some day I may get arrested for exceeding the speed limit."
Lord Lammersfield laughed dryly. "I shall hold myself in readiness for a summons to Holloway," he said with a bow. "Meanwhile, suppose we return to the scene of festivity. In a weak moment I said I would introduce some protégée of my wife's to several of our leading statesmen; and although, personally, I don't admire the young lady's taste, after all, a promise is a promise."
As fate would have it, almost the first person I saw as we re-entered the ballroom was Mercia. She was standing against the wall, listening rather absently to a sombre-looking gentleman with long grey whiskers, whom I recognised from his pictures as one of His Majesty's most incompetent judges. A sudden determination seized me, and I turned to Lammersfield.
"You know everybody," I said. "Who's that pretty girl over there with old Beauchamp?"
He looked across. "Ah yes! charming, isn't she? Beauchamp makes up in taste what he lacks in intelligence. She is a discovery of Lady Tregattock's, I believe—a Miss de Rosen. They are reported to have picked her up somewhere in South America. I will introduce you to her if you like."
With the memory of "Francis" still pleasantly fresh in my mind, this information about Lady Tregattock was, to say the least, a trifle startling. However, Lammersfield's keen eyes were on my face, and I managed to suppress any sign of surprise.
"Well, if it's not bothering you too much," I said carelessly.
"On the contrary," he returned, "I should consider it an amiable duty to rescue any attractive young woman from Beauchamp."
I followed him across the room to where the ill-assorted pair were standing.