"Lord Dennisford," I answered. "A very decent fellow, too, although I don't see much of him. He spends most of his time abroad."
I turned to look at my companion. He had repeated the name very softly, yet with a peculiar intonation, which made me at once aware that the name was of interest to him.
"Lady Dennisford is seldom away," I answered. "She entertains a good deal down here. A very popular woman in the county."
He seemed to be measuring the distance across the park with his eyes.
"Yes! I have my stick, and, if necessary, you can help me!"
So we set out across the park. I asked him no questions. He told me nothing. But when we had crossed the road, and were on our way up the avenue to Dennisford House, he clutched at my arm.
"I will see what I can do," I answered. "Lady Dennisford and I are old friends."
We reached the great sweep in front of the house. I pointed to the terrace, on which were several wicker chairs.
"The windows from the drawing-room, where I shall probably see Lady Dennisford, open out there," I remarked. "If you could give me any message which would interest her, perhaps--"
"Tell her," he muttered, "that you have a guest who walked with her once under the orange trees at Seville, and who--in a few days--will walk no more anywhere! She will come!"
He made his way along the terrace, leaning heavily upon his stick, and sank with a little sigh of relief into one of the cushion-laden wicker chairs. I watched him lean back with half-closed eyes; and I realized then what an effort this walk must have been to him. Before me the great front doors stood open, and with the familiarity of close neighborship, I passed into the cool shaded hall, with its palms and flowers, its billiard-table invitingly uncovered, its tiny fountain playing in its marble basin. There was no one in sight; but, stretched upon a bright crimson cushion, set back in the heart of a great easy-chair, was a small Japanese spaniel.
Our recognition was mutual. The dog rose slowly to his haunches, and sat there looking at me. His apple-green bow had wandered to the side of his neck, and one ear was turned back. Yet notwithstanding the fact that his appearance was so far grotesque, I felt no inclinations whatever towards mirth. His coal-black eyes were fixed upon me steadfastly, his tiny wrinkled face seemed like the shrivelled and age-worn caricature of some Eastern magician. He showed no signs of pleasure or of welcome at my coming, nor did he share any of the bewilderment with which I gazed at him. But for the absurdity of the thing, I should have said that he had been sitting there waiting for me.