looked more rosy than at any time since first he had come to London. Even Berenice decided that his old physical stamina had reasserted itself.
In the meantime, Lord Stane, impressed by Cowperwood’s creative energy, which was expressing itself in so many new and original ideas, decided that now would be the time to stage a social affair in Cowperwood’s honor at his lovely sea place, Tregasal, where at least two hundred guests could be accommodated. And so, after much meditation as to the important persons to be invited, the date was set, and Tregasal, with its beautiful grounds and its huge ballroom, with chandeliers rivaling the glitter of the moonlight, the scene of the ball.
Lord Stane, standing near the main entrance, greeted the inpouring guests. And, as he now saw Berenice entering on Cowperwood’s arm, he thought she was especially beautiful tonight, in a trailing white gown of Greek design and simplicity, held at the waist with a golden cord, her red hair crowning this costume as might a wreath of gold. And to climax all for Stane, as she approached she looked and smiled at him in such a way that all he could say was: “Berenice! Beautiful: You are a dream of loveliness!”—a greeting which Cowperwood, stopping to exchange a few words with one of his most important stockholders, failed to catch.
“I must have the second dance,” said Stane, holding her hand for a moment. And she graciously nodded her head.
After greeting Berenice, he welcomed Cowperwood, his honored guest, in most cordial manner, detaining him long enough for the numerous officials of the Underground and their wives to greet him.
It was not long before supper was announced, and the guests, entering and seating themselves, were indulging in conversation and sipping wines of rare vintage, plus a special brand of champagne which Stane was satisfied would please the most exacting taste. Laughter and the murmur of conversation increased in volume, pleasingly modified by the soft notes of the music floating in from the adjoining chamber.
Berenice found herself seated near the head of the table, with Lord Stane on one side and the Earl of Bracken on the other, the latter a rather attractive young man, who, long before the end of the third course, was urging her to be charitable enough to save for him at the least the third or fourth dance. But while she was both interested and flattered, her eyes were constantly following the motions of Cowperwood, who, at the other end of the table, was indulging in lively conversation with an exceedingly attractive brunette on one side while obviously not neglecting a very engaging beauty on the other. She was pleased to find him relaxed and entertained, since for some time she had not seen him so.
However, the dining being of considerable duration, and the supply of champagne unlimited, she harbored some fear as to Cowperwood. His gestures and conversation, she noted, were becoming more and more enthusiastic, obviously because of the champagne, and this troubled her. And when, finally, Lord Stane made the announcement that all who wished to dance could now adjourn to the ballroom, and Cowperwood came over to claim her for a dance, she was still further troubled by his elated manner. And yet he walked with the air of one who was as sober as anyone present. As they moved together in rhythmic measures of the waltz, she whispered to him. “Are you happy, darling?”
“Never happier,” he answered. “I’m with you, my beautiful!”
“Darling!” whispered Berenice.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Bevy? You, this place, these people! This is what I’ve been seeking all my life!”
She smiled affectionately at him, but just then she felt him sway slightly and then pause and place his hand to his heart, murmuring: “Air, air; I must get outside!”
She took firm hold of his hand and led him toward an open door out onto a balcony facing the sea. She urged and aided him to the nearest bench, on which he sank limply and heavily. By now she was terribly alarmed, and ran toward a servant who was passing with a tray, exclaiming: “Please! I need help! Get someone, and help me get him to a bedroom. He is seriously ill.”
The frightened servant immediately called the butler, who had Cowperwood carried into an unoccupied chamber on the same floor, after which Lord Stane was notified. He, upon his arrival, was so shocked by Berenice’s distress that he ordered the butler to remove Cowperwood to his own suite on the second floor, and at once called his own physician, Dr. Middleton. Also the butler was instructed to insure silence on the part of all of the servants in regard to this.
In the meantime, Cowperwood was beginning to stir, and as Dr. Middleton came in, was so revived as to be conscious of the need of caution and to say to Stane that the less said about this the better, other than that he had tripped and fallen. He was sure, he said, he would be all right in the morning. Dr. Middleton, however, had a different idea about his illness, and gave him a sedative. After which he advised the sick man remain where he was for a day or two, at least, in order that he might discover whether there were any complications. For, as he said to Stane, Cowperwood’s condition was probably more serious than a fainting spell.
Chapter 61
The next morning, when Cowperwood awakened in the Stane suite, he found himself, except for the goings and comings of very courteous servants, alone for a time, and it was then that he began to run over in his mind the fairly disturbing phases of all that had so swiftly happened to him. For he was a little startled by the fact that, after having arrived at a sense of relative security in connection with his physical welfare, he should be so suddenly made aware of his illness.
Was it really true that he had fallen victim to this fatal Bright’s disease? At the time of Dr. Middleton’s call he had not been sufficiently alert to discuss this matter of his collapse. For one thing, as he now recalled, he had had the sensation of extreme shortness of breath, which finally resulted in the physical weakness which caused him to fall. Was that due to a kidney condition, as earlier described by Dr. Wayne, or was it a matter of too much champagne, too much food? The doctor, as he recalled, had impressed upon him that he was not to drink anything but water and eat very lightly.
To make sure that he was following the right course in regard to himself, he decided to have Berenice cable his old-time friend and personal physician, Dr. Jefferson James, in New York, to come to London at once. This trusted friend would be the one to satisfy him as to his true condition.
However, as he slowly and somewhat calmly surveyed the situation, there was a tap at the door, and Lord Stane entered, making of his coming a very cheerful and gracious affair.
“There you are!” he exclaimed. “You and your beautiful girls and your champagne! Think of it! Aren’t you really ashamed of yourself?” Cowperwood smiled broadly. “And, incidentally,” went on Stane, “I have an order to inflict severe punishment on you for at least twenty-four hours. No champagne! Instead, water! No caviar, not a grain, only a thin sliver of beef, plus more water! Perhaps, when you’re about ready to collapse, a bowl of thin gruel and more water!”
Cowperwood sat up. “I call that tops for cruelty,” he said. “But perhaps, you can be induced to share my water and gruel. In the meantime, and strictly in confidence, you might tell me what Dr. Middleton told you.”
“Well,” replied Stane, “what he really said was that you were forgetting that your years are creeping up on you, and that champagne and caviar are entirely outside your present powers of digestion. Also dancing until sunrise. Hence your collapse on my over polished ballroom floor. And hence Dr. Middleton’s approaching visit to find out how you’re getting along, although he says he cannot find that there is anything seriously wrong with you other than overwork, which is something you can easily remedy. And I must tell you that your lovely ward, who was good enough to accept my offer of lodging for the night, will be down shortly. I need not tell you, of course, that she is as greatly concerned as I am, regardless of Dr. Middleton’s conclusions”—a statement which caused Cowperwood to assert rather positively:
“But there’s nothing of any consequence the matter with me. I may not be as good as new, but I’m still somewhere near it. And as far as business is concerned, I’ll be on hand to cope with any difficulties there. As a matter of fact, you should be able to judge for yourself, by the results so far, whether our affairs are being managed capably or not.”
There was just a tingle of reproach in his tone, which Stane noticed.
“The results have been tremendous,” he said. “Anyone who could come over here with such a proposition as yours and secure $25,000,000 from American investors, certainly deserves nothing but compliments from me. And I’m glad to express my gratitude, and that of our investors, for your interest and your services. The only trouble is,
