owner of the interesting object further instructed him: "You'll find
in the pocket a large red morocco case."
"Very good, sir," said Gotch--but with another word for his mistress.
"Lord John would like to know--"
"Lord John's there?" she interrupted.
Gotch turned to the open door. "Here he is, my lady."
She accommodated herself at once, under Mr. Bender's eye, to the
complication involved in his lordship's presence. "It's he who went
round to Bond Street."
Mr. Bender stared, but saw the connection. "To stop the show?" And then
as the young man was already there: "You've stopped the show?"
"It's 'on' more than ever!" Lord John responded while Gotch retired: a
hurried, flurried, breathless Lord John, strikingly different from the
backward messenger she had lately seen despatched. "But Theign should
be here!"--he addressed her excitedly. "I announce you a call from the
Prince."
"The Prince?"--she gasped as for the burden of the honour. "He follows
you?"
Mr. Bender, with an eagerness and a candour there was no mistaking,
recognised on behalf of his ampler action a world of associational
advantage and auspicious possibility. "Is the Prince _after_ the thing?"
Lord John remained, in spite of this challenge, conscious of nothing
but his message. "He was there with Mackintosh--to see and admire the
picture; which he thinks, by the way, a Mantovano pure and simple!--and
did me the honour to remember me. When he heard me report to Mackintosh
in his presence the sentiments expressed to me here by our noble friend
and of which, embarrassed though I doubtless was," the young man pursued
to Lady Sandgate, "I gave as clear an account as I could, he was so
delighted with it that he declared they mustn't think then of taking the
thing off, but must on the contrary keep putting it forward for all it's
worth, and he would come round and congratulate and thank Theign and
explain him his reasons."
Their hostess cast about for a sign. "Why Theign is at Kitty's, worse
luck! The Prince calls on him _here?_"
"He calls, you see, on _you_, my lady--at five-forty-five; and
graciously desired me so to put it you."
"He's very kind, but"--she took in her condition--"I'm not even
_dressed!_"
"You'll have time"--the young man was a comfort--"while I rush to
Berkeley Square. And pardon me, Bender--though it's so near--if I just
bag your car."
"That's, that's it, take his car!"--Lady Sandgate almost swept him away.
"You
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