"What think you?" demanded Andrew, impatiently.
His Grace wrote tranquilly on to the end of the line.
"What think I of what?"
"Why, the letter, of course! What ails the man? 'Something of great import to impart to us,' forsooth! What means he?"
"Yes, I noticed 'twas very badly worded," commented Tracy. "I have not the vaguest notion as to his meaning."
"But what do you make of it? Lord, Tracy, don't be such a fish! Dick is summoning quite a party!"
"You appear to be in his confidence, my dear Andrew. Allow me to congratulate you. No doubt we shall know more-ah-on Friday week, at three o'clock."
"Oh, you'll go, then?"
"Quite possibly." He went on writing unconcernedly.
"And you've no idea of what 'tis about? Dick is very strange. He hardly listens to what one has to say, and fidget-Lord!"
"Ah!"
"I think he looks ill, an' 'pon my soul, so does Lavvy! Do you suppose there is aught amiss?"
"I really have no idea. Pray do not let me detain you."
Andrew hoisted himself out of his chair.
"Oh, I'm not staying, never fear! . . . I suppose you cannot oblige me with-say-fifty guineas?"
"I should be loth to upset your suppositions," replied his Grace sweetly.
"You will not? Well; I didn't think you would somehow! But I wish you might contrive to let me have it, Tracy. I've had prodigious illluck of late, and the Lord knows 'tis not much I get from you! I don't want to ask Dick again."
"I should not let the performance grow monotonous, certainly," agreed the other. "Fifty, you said?"
"Forty-five would suffice."
"Oh, you may have it!" shrugged his Grace. "At once?"
"Blister me, but that's devilish good of you, Tracy! At once would be convenient to me!"
His Grace produced a key from his vest pocket and unlocked a drawer in the desk. From it he took a small box. He counted out fifty guineas, and added another to the pile. Andrew stared at it.
"What's that for?" he inquired.
"The stockings," replied Tracy, with a ghost of a smile.
Andrew burst out laughing.
"That's good! Gad! but you're devilish amusing, 'pon rep. you are!" He thanked his Grace profusely and gathering up the money, left the room.
Outside he gave vent to a low whistle of astonishment. "Tare an' ouns! he must be monstrous well-pleased over something!" he marvelled.
"I shall awaken soon, I doubt not." He chuckled a little as he descended the staircase, but his face was full of wonderment.
* * * * Lovelace called nearly every day at Wyncham House, but was always refused admittance, as Lady Lavinia deemed it prudent not to see him.