Her eyes followed him an instant—then she smiled at their guest. “Is he bored at having the higher prize—if you’re sure it is the higher?”
“Mr. Crimble is sure—because if he isn’t,” Lord John added, “he’s a wretch.”
“Well,” she returned, “as he’s certainly not a wretch it must be true. And fancy,” she exclaimed further, though as more particularly for herself, “our having suddenly incurred this immense debt to him!”
“Oh, I shall pay Mr. Crimble!” said her father, who had turned round.
The whole question appeared to have provoked in Lord John a rise of spirits and a flush of humour. “Don’t you let him stick it on.”
His host, however, bethinking himself, checked him. “Go you to Mr. Bender straight!”
Lord John saw the point. “Yes—till he leaves. But I shall find you here, shan’t I?” he asked with all earnestness of Lady Grace.
She had an hesitation, but after a look at her father she assented. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Then à tantôt!” It made him show for happy as, waving his hand at her, he proceeded to seek Mr. Bender in presence of the object that most excited that gentleman’s appetite—to say nothing of the effect involved on Lord John’s own.