The look of supreme content on his
little face was even more pathetic in its extravagance than his
ravenous hunger. He curled himself up on Selina's lap, surveyed the
room for a while with drowsy eyes, and fell asleep.
Sir Tancred opened the note from Lord Crosland, which he had left
unheeded on the table; it ran:
"DEAR BEAULEIGH:
"I have moved myself and my belongings to 411 and 412, till you have
got things arranged. I'm off to Lord's for the day, but shall dine at
the Cecil. Let us dine together.
"Yours sincerely,
"CROSLAND."
Sir Tancred felt relieved, and grateful for Lord Crosland's
thoughtfulness.
"We shall be able to have these rooms to ourselves," he said to Selina.
"Yes, sir," said Selina. "And he'll want some clothes. When he's had
a little sleep, and I've given him a bath, I'd better go out and get
some."
"No: I'll go now myself," said Sir Tancred. "Then, when he's had his
bath, they'll be ready for him."
He hurried down into a cab, and drove to Swan & Edgar's. There he
bought the finest little vests and petticoat and frocks and socks and
coats they could find him. On his way back with his purchases he
remembered shoes, stopped the cab at the boot-maker's, and bought a
dozen pairs.
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