In the
midst, however, in marched Reeves, with a tray and a napkin, and a
regular basin of invalid soup, which he set down before John in his
easy chair. There was something so exceedingly ludicrous in the poor
Friar's endeavour to be gratified, and his look of dismay and
disgust, that the public fairly shrieked with laughter, in which he
would fain have joined, but had to beg pardon for only looking
solemn; laughter was a painful matter.
However, later in the afternoon, when he was looking white and tired,
his host came and said—-
"Your object is to be about, and not make a sensation when people
arrive. Come and rest then;" then landed him on his own sofa in his
sitting-room, which was kept sacred from all confusion.
About half an hour later Mrs. Evelyn said—-
"Sydney, my dear, Willis is come for the tickets. Are they ready?"
"Oh, mother, I meant to have done them yesterday evening!"
"You had better take them to Duke's room, it is the only quiet place.
He is not there, I wish he were. Willis can wait while you fill them
up," said Mrs. Evelyn, not at all sorry to pin her daughter down for
an hour's quiet, and unaware that the room was occupied.
So Sydney, with a list of names and packet of cards, betook herself
to her brother's writing-table, never perceiving that there was
anybody under the Algerine rug, till there was a movement, suddenly
checked, and a voice said—-
"Can I help?"
"Oh! don't move.
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