"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.
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