She noticed that he looked at her through his
glasses, but thought no more of it till she turned up the steps of her
own house. Then she was startled by the sound of quick footsteps and
a voice.
"I beg your pardon, madam ..."
She turned, with her key in the door, and there he stood, hat in hand.
"Have I the pleasure of speaking to Lady Laura Bethell?"
There was a pleasant brisk ring about his voice that inclined her
rather favorably towards him.
"Is there anything.... Did you want to speak to me...? Yes, I am Lady
Laura Bethell."
"I was told you were at church, madam, and that you were not at home
to visitors on Sunday."
"That is quite right.... May I ask...?"
"Only a few minutes, Lady Laura, I promise you. Will you forgive my
persistence?"
Yes; the man was a gentleman; there was no doubt of that.
"Would not tomorrow do? I am rather engaged today."
He had his card-case ready, and without answering her at once, he came
up the steps and handed it to her.
The name meant nothing at all to her.
"Will not tomorrow...?" she began again.
"Tomorrow will be too late," said the old gentleman. "I beg of you,
Lady Laura. It is on an extremely important matter.
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