"For goodness' sake, man," admonished his lordship, "try to keep
Lady Blakeney talking outside for a moment while the ladies withdraw.
Zounds!" he added, with another more emphatic oath, "this is most
unfortunate."

"Quick Sally! the candles!" shouted Jellyband, as hopping about from
one leg to another, he ran hither and thither, adding to the general
discomfort of everybody.

The Comtesse, too, had risen to her feet: rigid and erect, trying to
hide her excitement beneath more becoming SANG-FROID, she repeated
mechanically,--

"I will not see her!--I will not see her!"

Outside, the excitement attendant upon the arrival of very important
guests grew apace.

"Good-day, Sir Percy!--Good-day to your ladyship! Your servant, Sir
Percy!"--was heard in one long, continued chorus, with alternate more
feeble tones of--"Remember the poor blind man! of your charity, lady and
gentleman!"

Then suddenly a singularly sweet voice was heard through all the din.

"Let the poor man be--and give him some supper at my expense."

The voice was low and musical, with a slight sing-song in it, and
a faint SOUPCON of foreign intonation in the pronunciation of the
consonants.