"
Miss Bunting laughed as she disappeared downstairs.
"You're safe to-day," she threw back at him. "She's out."
Jerry returned to his smouldering fire and proceeded to encourage it
with the bellows till, by the time the tea came up, the flames were
leaping and crackling cheerfully in the little grate.
"And now," said Diana, as they settled themselves for a comfortable
yarn over the teacups, "tell me all the news. Oh by the way, what's
your important message? I don't believe"--regarding him
severely--"that you've got one at all. It was just an excuse."
"It wasn't, honour bright. It's from Miss de Gervais--she sent me
round to see you expressly. You know, while Errington's away I call at
her place for orders like the butcher's boy every morning. The boss
asked me to look after her and make myself useful during his absence."
"Well," said Diana impatiently. "What's the message?" It did not
interest her in the least to hear about the arrangements Max had made
for Adrienne's convenience.
"Miss de Gervais is having a reception--'Hans Breitmann gif a barty,'
you know--"
"Of course I know," broke in Diana irritably, "seeing that I'm asked to
it."
Jerry continued patiently.
"And she wants you as a special favour to sing for her. As a matter of
fact there are to be one or two bigwigs there whom she thinks it might
be useful for you to meet--influence, you know," he added, waving his
hand expansively, "push, shove, hacking, wire-pulling--"
"Oh, be quiet, Jerry," interrupted Diana, laughing in spite of herself.
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