Page:These Old Shades (Heyer 1927).pdf/103

Early in the next week Davenant left Paris for Lyons. On the same day Avon summoned his maître d'hôtel, Walker, to his presence, and informed him that he was leaving France on the morrow. Well accustomed to his master's sudden decisions, Walker felt no surprise. He was a discreet personage with an unyielding countenance. For many years he had been in the Avon employ, and as he had proved himself to be scrupulously honest and trustworthy, the Duke had placed him in charge of his Paris establishment. As his Grace owned another establishment in St. James's Square, London, and kept both open and staffed with servants, this post was one of considerable importance. It was Walker's duty to keep the Hôtel Avon in such strictness and order that it should always be ready for the Duke or for his brother.

When Walker left the library he went below-stairs to inform Gaston, the valet, Meekin, the groom, and Léon, the page, that they must hold themselves in readiness to depart from Paris to-morrow morning. He found Léon seated on the table in the housekeeper's room, swinging his legs and munching a slice of cake. Madame Dubois was sitting in a large chair before the fire, dolefully regarding him. She welcomed Walker with a coy smile, for she was a comely woman, but Léon, having cast one glance towards the prim figure in the doorway, tilted his head a little, and went on eating.

"Eh bien, m'sieur!" Madame smoothed her gown, smiling upon the maître d'hotel.

"I crave pardon thus to have disturbed you, madame," Walker bowed. "I came but to find Léon."