“Two hours and a half!” he cried.
“If that is too early,” she said mischievously, “we can go later.”
“Too early!” he repeated. But the rest of his protest was cut short by Mr. Crewe.
“Hello, Victoria, what did you think of my speech?”
“The destinies of the nation are settled,” said Victoria. “Do you know Mr. Vane?”
“Oh, yes, how are you?” said Mr. Crewe; “glad to see you,” and he extended a furred glove. “Were you there?”
“Yes,” said Austen.
“I'll send you a copy. I'd like to talk it over with you. Come on, Victoria, I've arranged for an early lunch. Come on, Mrs. Pomfret—get in, Alice.”
Mrs. Pomfret, still protesting against the profane interruption to Mr. Crewe's speech, bent her head to enter Mr. Crewe's booby sleigh, which had his crest on the panel. Alice was hustled in next, but Victoria avoided his ready assistance and got in herself, Mr. Crewe getting in beside her.
“Au revoir,” she called out to Austen, as the door slammed. The coachman gathered his horses together, and off they went at a brisk trot. Then the little group which had been watching the performance dispersed. Halfway across the park Austen perceived some one signaling violently to him, and discovered his friend, young Tom Gaylord.