"That I cannot tell you, my Lord," replied Mr. Baggs. "The crowd hath several ways of showing its displeasure. You know, when a Frenchman or some other Foreigner shows his face in the Streets of London, how soon he becomes the butt of passing missiles. The sweep will leave a sooty imprint upon his coat; a baker’s basket will cover him with dust; at every hackney-coach stand, some facetious coachman will puff the froth of his beer into his face. Well! you may draw your own conclusions, my Lord, as to what will happen anon, when my Lady Castlemaine hath finished drinking her dish of tea!" "But surely no one would treat a Lady so?" once more ejaculated my Lord Stour hotly. "Perhaps not," retorted Mr. Baggs drily. "But then you, see, my Lord, Lady Castlemaine is ... Well; she is Lady Castlemaine ... and at the corner of our street just now I heard murmurs of the Pillory or even worse for her——" "But this is monstrous—infamous——!" "And will be well deserved," here broke in Lord Douglas decisively. "Fie on You, Friend, to worry over that baggage, whilst we are still in doubt if my Sister be safe." "Yes!" murmured Lord Stour, with a sudden note of deep solicitude in his voice. "My God! I was forgetting!" He ran to the window—the one next to the recess where I still remained ensconced—threw open the casement and gazed out even more anxiously than I had been doing all along. Mr. Baggs in the meanwhile endeavoured to reassure Lord Douglas. "If," he said, "her Ladyship knows that your Lordship hath come here to visit me, she may seek shelter under my humble roof." "God grant that she may!" rejoined the young Man fervently. We all were on tenterhooks, I as much as the others; and we all gazed out agitatedly in the direction of Fleet Street. Then, all at once, my Lord Stour gave a cry of relief. "There’s the chaise!" he exclaimed. "It has just turned the corner of this street.... No! not that way, Douglas ... on your right.... That is Lady Barbara’s chaise, is it not?" "Yes, it is!" ejaculated the other. "Thank Heaven, her man Pyncheon has had the good sense to bring her here. Quick, Mr. Notary!" he added. "The door!" The next moment a Sedan chair borne by two men in handsome liveries of blue and silver came to a halt just below. Already Mr. Baggs had hurried down the stairs. He would, I know, yield to no one in the privilege of being the first to make the Lady Barbara welcome in his House. The Excitement and Anxiety were momentarily over, and I could view quite composedly from above the beautiful Lady Barbara as she stepped out of her Chair, a little flurried obviously, for she clasped and unclasped her cloak with a nervy, trembling hand. A second or two later, I heard her high-heeled shoes pattering up the stairs, whilst her Men with the Chair sought refuge in a quiet tavern higher up in Chancery Lane. CHAPTER IV MORE THAN A PASSING FANCY