'I'm really not quite sure,' Caroline plunged on. '1 have missed a small article of jewelry, and I don't know whether it is a theft or merely mischance. It is a wretched feeling. I don't wish to be unjust when the whole affair may be quite accidental.'
'Was it of value?' Ambrosine inquired with a little frown.
'Not especially, except that it was a gift from my mother-in-law, and she might be hurt that I had been careless with it.'
'Or flattered that of all your pieces someone chose that to take,' Ambrosine pointed out.
Caroline laughed without pleasure.
'I hadn't even thought of that. I'm obliged to you. If she makes any observation, I must say that to her.'
'I still think you may have mislaid it, Mama,' Charlotte said, trying to allow the subject to die. 'It may well turn up in a day or two. If you let Grandmama think it has been stolen, she will begin to accuse people, and she will never let the-matter rest until someone is blamed.'
Caroline caught the sharpness in her voice and perceived the danger she was inviting upon herself.
'You are quite right,' she said. 'It would be wiser to say nothing.'
'People with not enough business of their own to mind will be quick enough to mind yours if you start word of things like theft,' Charlotte added for good measure.
'I see your estimate of people's charity matches my own, Mrs. Pitt.' Ambrosine reached for the bell cord and pulled it. 'I hope you will take tea? As well as a good maid, I also have an excellent cook. I employed her for her ability with cakes and desserts. She makes the most dreadful soups, but then since I don't care for soup, I am perfectly happy to overlook that.'
'My husband is extremely fond of soup,' Caroline remarked absently.
'So is mine,' Ambrosine said. 'But one cannot have everything.'
The parlormaid came and Ambrosine sent her for the tea.
'You know, Mrs. Pitt,' Ambrosine continued, 'your obser shy;vations about other people's curiosity are peculiarly apposite. I have had the disturbing sensation lately that someone is taking a marked interest in me-not a kindly one, but purely inquisitive. If anything, I have the feeling it is malicious.'
Charlotte sat perfectly still. She was conscious of Caroline's body stiffening beside her. '
'How distressing,' Charlotte said after a moment. 'Have you any notion who it may be?'
'No, none at all. That is what makes it so unpleasant. It is merely a repeated impression.'
The door opened, and the maid came in with tea and at least a dozen different kinds of cakes and tarts, many of them with whipped cream.
'Thank you,' Ambrosine said, eyeing one particular fruit pastry with satisfaction. 'Perhaps I am being fanciful,' she went on as the maid disappeared again. 'I daresay there is no one with as much interest in me as such a thing supposes.''
Caroline opened her mouth as if to speak, then said nothing after all.
'You are quite right,' Charlotte said, hurrying to fill the silence, her eyes on the tea table. 'You have a most accom shy;plished cook. I vow I should grow Out of every garment I possess if I were to live with such a woman.'
Ambrosine observed Caroline's still slender figure.
'I hope that does not mean you will not call upon me again?'
Charlotte smiled. 'On the contrary, it means that I shall now have two reasons for calling instead of one.' She accepted her tea and an enormous cream sponge. No one bothered with the polite fiction of taking bread and butter first.
They had been at tea only a matter of five minutes or so when the door opened again and a gray-haired, middle-aged man came in. Charlotte immediately recognized the short-nosed, rather se shy;vere face from the photographs. This man was even wearing the same kind of stiff-winged collar and black tie as the man in the photographs. He had to be Lovell Charrington.
Introductions proved her correct.
'No sandwiches?' He looked at the plates critically.
'Didn't know you would be joining us,' Ambrosine replied. 'I can always call cook for some if you wish.'
'Please! I cannot imagine that all this cream is good for you, my dear. And we should not restrict our visitors to indulging in your somewhat eccentric tastes.'
'Oh, we are equally eccentric,' Charlotte answered without thinking. Her impulse was to side with Ambrosine; moreover, she had quite enough bread at home. 'I am delighted to be able to enjoy them in such happy company.'
Ambrosine rewarded her with a smile of satisfaction and surprise.
'If you will not be offended by my saying so, Mrs. Pitt, you remind me of my own daughter, Ottilie. She enjoyed things so much and was not averse to saying so.'
Charlotte did not know whether it would be all right to admit knowing of the girl's death, or if it might seem as if she had been talking of the Charringtons' affairs too familiarly. She was saved from her dilemma by Lovell.
'Our daughter has passed on, Mrs. Pitt. I'm sure you will understand if I say that we find it distressing to discuss.'
Since Charlotte had not spoken, she thought his manner less than courteous, but for Ambrosine's sake she restrained herself.
'Of course,' she said. 'I myself seldom speak of those I have lost, for the same reason.'
To her satisfaction, he looked a little taken aback. Obviously he had not considered the possibility that she might have feelings on the subject.
'Quite,' he said hastily. 'Quite!'
Charlotte deliberately took another cream cake, and was forced to spend the next few moments concentrating on eating it without dropping the cream down her bosom.
Conversation became polite and stilted. They discussed the weather, what the newspapers were reporting in the Society columns, and the possibility-or, in Lovell's opinion, the impossibility-of there being any lost treasures in Africa, such as those that were portrayed in Mr. Rider Haggard's novel King Solomon's Mines, published the previous year.
'Nonsense,' he said firmly. 'Dangerous imagination. Fellow ought to employ his time to better purpose. Ridiculous way for a grown man to earn his living, spinning fantasies to beguile foolish women and girls who are susceptible enough to take him seriously. Overstimulating the minds of such persons is bad for their health. . and their morals!'
'I think it is an excellent way to employ oneself,' said a young man of perhaps twenty-nine or thirty, coming into the room with a wave of his arm. He helped himself to the last cake, ate it almost in one gulp, and flashed a dazzling smile at Charlotte, then at Caroline. He picked up the teapot to test if there was anything still in it. 'Harms no one and entertains thousands. Brings a little color into lives that might ordinarily never have a dream worth indulging. Without dreams their lives might be unbearable.'
'Never heard such nonsense!' Lovell replied. 'Panders to overheated imaginations, and to greed. If you wish for tea, Inigo, please ring for the maid and request it instead of swinging the pot around like that. That is what servants are for. I don't think you have been introduced to Mrs. Pitt?'
Inigo looked at Charlotte. 'Of course not. If I had, I would most certainly have remembered. How do you do, Mrs. Pitt. I will not ask how you are. You are obviously in excellent health- and spirits.'
'Indeed I am.' Charlotte tried to keep up the front of dignity she knew Caroline would wish, if not expect. 'And if you said less for yourself, I should find it hard to believe,' she added.
'Oh!' His eyebrows went up with evident pleasure. 'A woman of opinions. You would have liked my sister Tillie. She always had opinions. A few rather odd ones, mind, but she always knew what she thought, and usually said so.'
'Inigo!' Lovell's face was deeply flushed. 'Your sister has passed away. Kindly remember that, and do not speak of her in that flippant and overfamiliar manner!' He swung round. 'I apologize, Mrs. Pitt. Such indelicacy must be embarrassing to you.' His tone lacked conviction. In his mind, Charlotte was already hardly better than his son.
'On the contrary.' Charlotte settled more comfortably into her seat. 'I find it very easy to understand how one still thinks with great vividness and affection of those whom one has loved. We all bear our losses in different
