"He, kill you!" Nina said, scornfully. "You allowed him to live—yes?"
"But I don't bear any malice. No, I don't. I'm going to make that boy just the very happiest young man there is in the kingdom of Great Britain this evening."
"Ah, I know, I know!" exclaimed Nina, delightedly.
"Oh, no, you don't know. You don't know anything about it. What you and Miss Girond have got to do now is to go into the cloak-room and leave your things, and afterwards I'll meet you in the dining-room."
"Yes, but you are going to Mr. Lehmann!" said Nina, with a laugh. "I do not know?—yes, I do know. Ah, that is generous of you, Leo—that is noble."
"Noble?—trash!" he said; and he hurried these young people along to the disrobing-room and left them there. Then he went to the manager, who was still in the hall.
"I say," he began, without more ado, "there's a young friend of mine in this hotel whom I wish you'd invite to dine with us."
The manager looked rather startled—then hesitated—then stroked his waxed moustache.
"I—I presume a gentleman friend?"
"Yes, of course," said Lionel, angrily. "It's a Percival Miles—why, you must have heard of Sir Barrington Miles, and this is his eldest son, though he's quite a young fellow—"