Excepting his master, he did not know a professional singer in England, and, whenever a benefit concert was to be given, he would chase the organiser all over the town in hansoms, and telegraph to him for an appointment "on urgent business" in the hope of being allowed to sing. But his assurance was so consummate that--although one was aware he had not yet done anything at all--he almost persuaded one while he talked that he was the pivot round which the musical world revolved. Cæsar excepted, Kent had really no grounds for complaint against the Walfords. The others' queries might worry him, but their cordiality was extreme; and they made Cynthia relate Turquand's opinion of the book--for which no title had been found--again and again. Even the stock-jobber's view that a fort-night's silence was surprising was due to an exaggerated estimate of the author's importance, and Mrs. Walford, when she refrained from giving him advice, appeared to think him a good deal cleverer now that the manuscript was in Messrs. Cousins' hands than she had done while it was lying on his desk. Indeed, there were moments at this stage when his mother-in-law gushed at him with an ardour that reminded him of the early days of his acquaintance with her in Dieppe. CHAPTER XI "Well, have those publishers of yours made you an offer yet?" "No, sir; I haven't heard from them." "You should drop them a line," said Walford irritably. "Damn nonsense! How long have they had the thing now?" "About three weeks." "Drop 'em a line! They may keep you waiting a month if you don't wake them up. Don't you think so, Cynthia? He ought to write." "Oh, I expect we shall have a letter in a day or two, papa. We were afraid you weren't coming round this evening; you're late. How d'ye do, mamma? How d'ye do, Aunt Emily?" "And how are you?" asked Mrs. Walford. "Have you made up your mind about Bournemouth yet? She is quite fit to go now, Humphrey. You ought to pack her off at once; there's nothing to wait for now you've got your nurse. How does she suit you?" "She seems all right," said Cynthia, rather doubtfully. "A little consequential, perhaps--that's all." "Oh, you mustn't stand any airs and graces; put her in her place at the start. What has she done?" "She hasn't done anything, only----" "She's our first," explained Kent, "and we're rather in awe of her. She was surprised to find that there weren't two nurseries--she is frequently 'surprised,' and then we apologise to her." "Don't be so absurd!" murmured his wife; "he does exaggerate so, mamma! No; but, of course, she has always been in better situations, with people richer than us.... 'Us'?" she repeated questioningly, looking at Kent with a smile. He laughed and shook his head. "Than _we_, then! And she's the least bit in the world too self-important." "Than 'we'?" echoed Mrs. Walford. "Than 'we'? Nonsense! 'Than _us_'!" Kent pulled his moustache silently, and there was a moment's pause.