"
"If I were you," Lord Rockminster finally said, in a confidential
undertone, as they all rose from the table, "I would telegraph about
dinner."
How Lionel hated the sight of this open door, and the wagonette, and the
portmanteau up beside the coachman!
"Good-bye, Mr. Moore," said the pleasant-mannered young matron to him,
as she took his hand for a moment. "I'm afraid it has been awfully dull
for you--"
"Lady Adela!" he said.
"But the next time you come we shall try to be less monotonously
bucolic. Perhaps by then the phonograph will be able to bring us a whole
musical evening from London, whenever we want it--a whole performance of
an operetta--"
"Offenbach in a Highland valley!" he exclaimed.
"No," she said, very quietly and graciously; "but perhaps something by
the composer of 'The Squire's Daughter'--and there might be in it an air
as delightful as that of 'The Starry Night.' Oh, Mr. Moore, don't let
them produce any other piece at the New Theatre until we all get back to
London again! Well, good-bye--it's so kind of you to have taken pity on
us in this wilderness--"
"If you knew how sorry I am to go, Lady Adela!" he said.
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