"Don't let
us lose a moment. Send me for your fan."
Natalie opened her lips to say the necessary words. Before she could
speak, the servant announced--"Mr. Turlington."
He came in, with his stiffly-upright shirt collar and his
loosely-fitting glossy black clothes. He made his sullen and clumsy
bow to Lady Winwood. And then he did, what he had done dozens of times
already--he caught Natalie, with her eyes still bright and her face
still animated (after talking to Launce)--a striking contrast to the
cold and unimpulsive young lady whom he was accustomed to see while
Natalie was talking to _him_.
Lord Winwood's daughters were persons of some celebrity in the world of
amateur music. Noticing the look that Turlington cast at Launce, Lady
Winwood whispered to Miss Lavinia--who instantly asked the young ladies
to sing. Launce, in obedience to a sign from Natalie, volunteered to
find the music-books. It is needless to add that he pitched on the wrong
volume at starting. As he lifted it from the piano to take it back to
the stand, there dropped out from between the leaves a printed letter,
looking like a circular.
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