"Till dinner-time only, I hope. Secret's safe with me."
George was standing a little way off. Lord Robert joined him, muttering to himself—
"Deuced queer! Like a masquerade. I suppose I had better put on a domino also, and drop the lordship. But if she thinks she can shake me off so easily—no!"
Then aloud to Daintree—
"Give me the address of your pension, Mr. George, I suppose they'll take me in. Better call myself Mr. Elton— eh?"
The younger man stared at him for a moment in sheer consternation. Then, seeing that he would betray himself to the astute politician if he hesitated, or threw any obstacle in the way of Mr. Elton's acquiring the information he desired, Daintree gave the address, adding—
"Whether there is a vacant room I cannot say. If so, it is at the top of the house. Not very comfortable, I fear."
Lord Robert thanked him, wrote down the name and the address, and straightway departed. That which he was minded to do he did always, without loss of time.
Elizabeth was in a state of revolt, as she rejoined Miss Baring. It was intolerable that she should be hunted down thus. The aristocratic politician, with his dominant airs and elliptical utterance, was all very well in his proper place. She had no objection to his society in England, though she could not but secretly despise a man whom she knew to be mercenary, let Mr. Twisden say what he would. But that he should pursue her to Paris, and now on to Madame Martineau's—for, of course, she could not be deceived by that plea of studying French law
