by Molly Thynne
De Silva shrugged his shoulders.
“He will do well there so long as temptation does not come his way. If he fails me again he will have to go.”
He paused for a moment, then went on:
“You have been most generous, Miss Summers, both to me and Lord Dalberry. I only hope he feels as grateful as I do.”
He moved towards the door.
“I think Lady Dalberry is anxious to see me about some shares she is interested in. I suppose I shall find her in her room?”
“She said she would be waiting for you. I want to see her for a moment myself, then I’ll leave you to talk business.”
She rose to leave the room, but, to her surprise, de Silva rather clumsily barred the way.
“I wonder if you will forgive me if I ask you to let me see her first,” he said, with a glance at his watch. “I have an appointment I must keep, and I can only give her a few minutes.”
The sight of him standing between her and the door made Carol feel uneasy.
“That’s all right, Mr. de Silva,” she said. “I only want to ask her a question about dinner to-night. I won’t keep her.”
He was obliged to stand aside, and she went swiftly down the passage to Lady Dalberry’s sitting-room. To her surprise it was empty.
“My aunt must be in her bedroom,” she said. “If you’ll wait here I’ll go and fetch her.”
Before he could stop her she had gone down the passage to Lady Dalberry’s bedroom. There was no answer to her knock, and, opening the door, she looked in. The room was empty.
A swift wave of anger came over her as it dawned on her that, after all her promises, Lady Dalberry had left her alone in the flat with de Silva. She remembered how anxious he had been to prevent her from leaving her room just now, and had no doubt that he and her aunt had arranged this between them.
She deliberated for a moment, then went into her aunt’s room and rang the bell that summoned the hall-boy. Then she went back to Lady Dalberry’s sitting-room.
“I am sorry, Mr. de Silva,” she said, standing in the doorway. “But my aunt is not in the flat.”
He looked surprised.
“But I know she was expecting me,” he exclaimed. “That being the case, she is hardly likely to be long. I will wait here, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly. I shall be in my room. But if you prefer to go back to your flat I’m sure that my aunt will let you know as soon as she gets back.”
She did not attempt now to conceal the contempt in her voice, and de Silva took note of it.
“I suppose I could not persuade you to keep me company, Miss Summers?” he suggested. This time the sneer was obvious.
“I’m afraid not,” she answered quietly, as she left the room.
In the passage she met the boy who had come up in answer to the bell. She asked him to get the scuttle in her sitting-room refilled, and waited on the alert for any sound from the sitting-room while he did so, but de Silva showed no signs of following her. When the boy had gone she closed the door and turned the key. She felt a fool as she did it, and all the more angry with her aunt for having put her in such a position. She drew a chair up to the fire and tried to settle down with a book, but she found her attention wandering, and when, ten minutes later, she heard a step in the passage outside her room, she was on her feet in an instant.
It stopped outside her door, and she saw the handle turn and heard the click of metal as the locked door gave slightly in answer to the pressure outside. For a moment she felt absurdly frightened at the thought that de Silva was standing on the other side of the door. Then, with a sensation of relief, she recognized Lady Dalberry’s voice.
“Carol, are you there, my child? Why have you locked yourself in?”
Carol opened the door.
“Mr. de Silva is in your room,” she said coldly. “He said he was in a hurry to see you.”
“I know. He appears to be annoyed because I have kept him waiting. I have told him that he must contain his patience for another minute or two. I want so much to know whether you two have made it up at last. He did nothing to make a bad impression?”
“If he had done anything, it would have been a little awkward for me,” Carol reminded her. “You promised not to leave the flat while he was here, and you know I wouldn’t have consented to see him if I hadn’t been certain that you were on the premises. You didn’t play fair, Aunt Irma!”
Lady Dalberry laughed.
“My dear, do not be absurd!” she exclaimed. “I assure you I was writing letters in my room until a quarter of an hour ago, so you may rest assured that you were well protected. Though what you imagined poor Juan was going to do to you, I fail to see. Was that why you were cowering behind a locked door just now?”
Carol felt her cheeks flame.
“You were not in the flat when we went to look for you,” she said positively.
“I was out of the flat for exactly ten minutes, during which time you were as safe as if you had had a dozen chaperons. Do you suppose I should have left you for a second if I had thought there was a chance of anything happening to you? Surely you are being a little ridiculous, Carol!”
“The point is that you let me think you were going to be here, and you deliberately went out and left me,” said Carol hotly, her anger getting the better of her. “I know now that I can’t trust you!”
“That is both foolish and exaggerated. I did not leave you deliberately, as you suggest. I was sending a parcel to America, and, as it had to be declared and registered, I thought it better to do it myself. I was out of the flat just long enough to walk down the street to the post office and back. It never occurred to me that you would take this silly attitude about it. You are becoming hysterical on the subject of poor Juan de Silva, my dear. I am sure that nothing that he said or did this evening could have given you any cause for alarm. I did not know that English girls were so easily frightened.”
She had begun her speech on a note of tolerant amusement, but her temper had begun to slip towards the end and there was both anger and contempt in her voice. Carol was beginning to feel that there was some faint excuse for the other woman’s attitude, and the suspicion grew on her that perhaps she had been behaving rather like a hysterical schoolgirl. For all that, she was too genuinely annoyed to capitulate easily.
“All of which does not alter the fact that you broke your word,” she insisted stubbornly.
Lady Dalberry’s only answer was to leave the room, closing the door behind her with the exaggerated gentleness of one who is determined not to slam it.
CHAPTER XVII
Next day Carol lunched with Dalberry. The night before she had debated long and earnestly whether to speak to him about the events of the afternoon. Her common sense told her that he would hardly be likely to take the recital quietly, and she knew him well enough to be afraid that, in his anger, he might precipitate matters and force her to leave Lady Dalberry’s flat. Unpleasant as her last interview with that lady had been, she felt definitely that she did not want to go at present. Now that she was on her guard she felt safe enough to wish to stay and see the thing through, and she knew that, if she was to carry out her plan in peace, she would do wisely to wait until she could report direct to Mellish and leave Dalberry in ignorance of what had happened.
But she was finding it more and more difficult to keep things from Dalberry. Of late her thoughts had turned instinctively to him when she was troubled or worried, and she had grown to long for the sound of his voice and anticipate the queer little thrill of pleasure that the mere sight of him gave her.
Before they were half-way through lunch she had forgotten her misgivings and told him the whole story.
The result was exactly as she had feared. He was furious, and tried to insist on her immediate departure from the flat. It was with difficulty that she persuaded him to wait for Mellish’s verdict, and only succeeded by promising him that, if that fat and easy-going person definitely vetoed her plan of remainin
g, she would abide by his decision. Determined to leave nothing to chance, Dalberry rang him up on the telephone and arranged to take Carol on to the Albany from the theatre to which they were going.
It was a stupid play, indifferently produced, but they enjoyed it as two people do who are in complete sympathy with each other. Mellish, who had seen it a few days before, and been woefully bored by it, was more than a little tickled at the bland, if vague, satisfaction with which they answered his questions regarding the performance. Things were turning out admirably from his point of view, and he was beginning to look forward to the day when, with Carol safe and in good hands, he would be able to regard his trusteeship as a mere sinecure.
His amusement faded, however, when he heard what Carol had to tell.
“Gillie’s right!” he said. “That flat is not the right place for you.”
Dalberry turned on Carol triumphantly.
“What did I say?” he exclaimed. “I hope that settles it!”
Carol turned pink with annoyance.
“Aren’t you being rather absurd about it, you two?” she said. “After all, nothing happened yesterday except that Aunt Irma played a rather low-down trick on me. Honestly, I don’t think she in the least realized what she was doing.”
“Tush! The woman’s not a fool,” exploded Mellish. “She was perfectly aware of what she was about.”
“She knew she wasn’t keeping her word, of course. It isn’t that I mean. The point is that she didn’t realize in the least that I should really mind. When she hinted that I was being stupid and prudish, she meant it. She couldn’t understand my being angry.”
“I wish you’d explain why you always stick up for her,” exclaimed Dalberry. “You’re not going to tell me that you like her!”
Mellish caught the angry gleam in Carol’s eyes.
“If you must talk, I wish you’d contrive to say something sensible, Gillie,” he murmured plaintively. “Do you really want to stay on at the flat, child? If you’ve got a good reason up your sleeve, produce it. I don’t want to play the heavy father, you know.”
She turned on him gratefully.
“I’m not trying to whitewash Aunt Irma, honestly,” she said slowly, “and I don’t like her. I wasn’t sure at first. She used to say something quite ordinary to me in that queer, deep voice of hers, and for the moment I’d forget all the things I didn’t like about her. I know now that it’s just a trick she’s got, and it doesn’t affect me any more. Now that I feel I can’t trust her, I actually dislike her. I think that’s why I try so hard to be just to her. After all, she is a foreigner and she doesn’t understand our ways, and, you must remember, she has been very kind to me.”
Mellish nodded comprehendingly.
“I see all that, but why stay on?”
Carol laughed rather shamefacedly.
“I’ve got my back up, I suppose. And I want to know what it’s all about.”
She glanced nervously at Mellish and, by the set of his mouth, knew that she was beaten.
“Not good enough,” was his decisive verdict. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go, Carol. Is there any one who will put you up for several days till we have time to look round a bit?”
“The Carthews would have me, I know,” said Carol reluctantly. “But not till next week. They don’t come back to town till to-day. To-morrow’s Sunday, and I must give them some notice. But, really, it’s ridiculous, Jasper.”
He ignored her objection.
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t stay in the flat till Monday,” he reflected. “This man, de Silva, is capable of going a long way in pursuit of his plans—witness his attack on Gillie—but I have a strong feeling that he won’t dare to show his hand until he is sure of what he is after.”
Carol stared at him, puzzled. It was Dalberry who enlightened her.
“You mean until Carol is actually in possession of her money?” he said.
“Exactly,” answered Mellish. “And she comes of age on Monday next. That, I am certain, is what these people are waiting for. She must be out of the flat by then.”
He turned to Carol.
“On the twenty-eighth you come into possession of your father’s estate. That gives you two days from now. Can you go to the Carthews’ first thing on Monday morning? I shall have to ask you to come here in the afternoon. There are certain formalities to be gone through.”
“I can, I suppose. As a matter of fact, they wanted me to spend next week with them and I refused, so I know they are available.”
“Very well, then. Get on to them the moment they come back, and if you use the telephone, don’t communicate with them through the one in the flat. Also, say nothing to Lady Dalberry about your intended departure. I don’t want to precipitate her plans, if she has any. Why not say merely that you are spending Monday with the Carthews and staying the night? Take a dressing-case and send for your other luggage later. She will simply jump to the conclusion that they have persuaded you to stay on. Will you do that?”
Carol nodded. There were moments when she knew better than to argue with Mellish, and this was one of them.
“What are your plans for to-night and to-morrow?” he asked.
“I’m dining with the Carthews to-night,” she answered, openly amused at his solicitude. “To-morrow I am more or less at a loose end.”
“And you are going down to Berrydown, I think you said?” he went on, turning to Dalberry.
A significant glance passed between the two men.
“I was going down for the day. I can put it off, if you like.”
“No. You ought to keep an eye on things there. I’ll look after this end. Ring me up to-morrow, Carol, and give me a general idea of your movements. I don’t want to lose touch with you till you’re out of that house.”
Carol laughed outright.
“I believe you’re trying to frighten me, between you,” she said. “All right, I’ll keep you advised. I think that’s the right expression.”
She found Lady Dalberry at home when she got back to the flat. She looked tired and depressed, and Carol had a feeling that something had happened to upset her.
She confessed to a headache, and said she was going early to bed.
“I’ve been thinking over old times,” she said sadly. “It is always a mistake to dwell on the days when one was happy, and it has upset me. And, all day, I have been longing for something. I know it is foolish, but I think you will understand, Carol.”
In spite of herself, Carol’s quick sympathies were aroused.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I want to visit my husband’s grave. I know that it will only reopen old wounds, but I cannot help it. If you had a car I would ask you to drive me down to Berrydown to-morrow; but we could hire one, if you would come with me. Or are you already engaged?”
“No. I’d like to go. I’ve been hankering after Berrydown myself lately. And, oddly enough, you could not have chosen a better day. Gillie’s going down himself to-morrow, and he can take us in the car if we let him know in time.”
Lady Dalberry hesitated.
“It would be kind of him,” she said at last. “But I would rather go alone with you, if you do not mind, my dear. I shall be bad company for any one, and I cannot get out of my head that Gillie does not like me. If you will put up with my foolish moods, I should be happier with you.”
And Carol, who had been looking forward to the drive with Dalberry, found herself saying that the arrangement suited her to perfection.
“But I’d rather ring him up and tell him we are coming,” she suggested. “If we want him to give us lunch it won’t do to take him unawares. Remember the house is really by way of being shut up.”
She was on her way to the door when an exclamation from Lady Dalberry stopped her.
“I forgot to tell you the telephone is out of order,” she exclaimed. “I rang up the exchange from the post office to-day and they promised to send some one, but no one has been.”
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p; She rose and went to the writing-table.
“You had better telegraph,” she said. “Here’s a form. Tell him we shall arrive about one o’clock.”
She was leaving the room as she spoke, and when, a few minutes later, Carol rose from the table, the telegram in her hand, she found her aunt, already dressed for the street, in the doorway.
“I am going out and I will give it to the porter,” she said.
Carol, who had barely time to dress for her dinner-party, handed it to her and hurried to her room.
It was close on eleven when she got back that night. It was not until she had alighted from the taxi and was about to pay the driver that she discovered that she had left her purse at the house at which she had been dining.
The loss of the bag was doubly annoying as she had her latch-key in it, and was obliged not only to borrow the money for the fare from the night porter, but to get one of the pages to fetch his pass-key and accompany her upstairs.
When she reached the flat door, however, she ceased to regret the accident that had caused her to bring the boy with her. De Silva was standing outside his flat, evidently in the act of going in.
His face lit up at the sight of her, and he made a futile effort to spin out a rather florid good-night. Unfortunately for him, the boy had already opened the door and was standing waiting, so that he was forced to cut the conversation short and go into his own flat.
Carol dismissed the boy and, her mind still full of the loss of the bag, went straight to the telephone. It was not till she had taken off the receiver that she remembered that the telephone was out of order.
In her annoyance she stood for a moment staring stupidly at the offending instrument. The light from the hall lamp shone full on it, and as she looked she became aware of something that made her catch her breath in sheer panic as she realized what it implied.
Just above the point where they connected with the instrument, the wires had been neatly severed. The damage was plainly visible to any one standing near the receiver, and the cut was too clean to be the result of any accident.
For a moment consternation held her powerless; then, as she realized that Lady Dalberry could hardly have failed to notice the cut wires, even if she had had no hand in the matter, her naturally quick temper flared, and she turned and made blindly for her aunt’s sitting-room. Whether the course she was about to take was a wise one, she did not stop to consider. Thus it was just as well for her that she found the room empty.
