CHAPTER XII
THE PROCONSULAR TOUCH
It had been a crowded and glorious week for the
Green Chartreuse, but it was not until the Sabbath Day
that it had really to embrace the crisis of its fate. Mary
had not said "Yes," and she had not said "No," but
she had seemed to imply that Grandmamma might prove
obdurate. Then there was also that little obstacle in
Grosvenor Square to negotiate. Yes, taking one fact
with another, it was reasonably clear to the Twin Brethren
that Sunday promised to be a rather important day
in the calendar.
The heir to the barony did not go to church on the morning of the fateful day, although, perhaps, it would have been wise to have done so. He read The Referee instead, in order to collect a few ideas as to his general bearing in the convention after lunch in the library at No. 88.
The Governing Classes were decidedly FF. Not a day later than the third week in October, Warlock thought, otherwise it would play the dickens with his shooting.
