He began to feel disquieted, and once half halted.
"Are you sure there is no mistake?" he asked.
"Oh, no mistake at all, sir," his guide answered. "Mrs. Wilson has
arranged everything. Leave your hat and cloak here, sir, if you
please."
Maurice mechanically did as requested, but as he threw off his outer
garment the opening of a door let in a burst of music which seemed so
close at hand that he was startled. He was in what was evidently a
coat-room, the attendant of which regarded him with open curiosity; and
he realized suddenly that he must be near a ball-room.
"Where am I?" he demanded.
"It's the ball, sir, that they has to end the season before Lent. It's
Lent to-morrow, sir, as I thought you'd know."
Maurice stared at him in amazement and anger.
"There is a mistake," he said. "Give me my cloak."
"Indeed, sir," the man said, holding back the garment he had taken,
"Mrs. Wilson said, sir, that I was to say that she particular wanted
you to come fetch her in the ball-room, sir; and I was to bring you
without fail."
"You may send her word that I am here."
"Please, sir," the man returned, in a voice which struck Maurice as
absurdly pleading, "she was very particular, and it's no hurt to go in,
sir.
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