He
was a handsome young fellow, whose eyes were not as professionally
impassive as his face. A footman had no right to dart a swift side
look at one as people did in the street. He did dart such a glance.
Robin saw, and she was momentarily struck by its being one of those
she sometimes objected to.
Otherwise his manner was without flaw. He had only come to announce
to his mistress the arrival of a caller.
When Lady Etynge took the card from the salver, her expression
changed. She even looked slightly disturbed.
"Oh, I am sorry," she murmured, "I must see her," lifting her eyes
to Robin. "It is an old friend merely passing through London. How
wicked of me to forget that she wrote to say that she might dash
in at any hour."
"Please!" pled Robin, prettily. "I can run away at once. Fraulein
Hirsch must have come back. Please--"
"The lady asked me particularly to say that she has only a few
minutes to stay, as she is catching a train," the footman decorously
ventured.
"If that is the case," Lady Etynge said, even relievedly, "I will
leave you here to look at things until I come back. I really want
to talk to you a little more about yourself and Helene. I can't let
you go." She looked back from the door before she passed through
it. "Amuse yourself, my dear," and then she added hastily to the
man.
"Have you remembered that there was something wrong with the latch,
William? See if it needs a locksmith.
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