“And I asked Isaacstein,” continued Lord Caterham.
“Well?”
“But fortunately he’s got to go back to town. Don’t forget to order the car for the 10:40, by the way.”
“All right.”
“Now if I can only get rid of Fish too,” continued Lord Caterham, his spirits rising.
“I thought you liked talking to him about your mouldy old books.”
“So I do, so I do. So I did, rather. But it gets monotonous when one finds that one is always doing all the talking. Fish is very interested, but he never volunteers any statements of his own.”
“It’s better than doing all the listening,” said Bundle. “Like one does with George Lomax.”
Lord Caterham shuddered at the remembrance.
“George is all very well on platforms,” said Bundle. “I’ve clapped him myself, though of course I know all the time that he’s talking balderdash. And anyway I’m a Socialist—”
“I know, my dear, I know,” said Lord Caterham hastily.
“It’s all right,” said Bundle. “I’m not going to bring politics into the house. That’s what George does—public speaking in private life. It ought to be abolished by Act of Parliament.”
“Quite so,” said Lord Caterham.
“What about Virginia?” asked Bundle. “Is she to be asked to stop on?”
“Battle said everybody.”
“Says he firmly! Have you asked her to be my stepma yet?”
“I don’t think it would be any good,” said Lord Caterham mournfully. “Although she did call me a darling last night. But that’s the worst of these attractive young women with affectionate dispositions. They’ll say anything, and they mean absolutely nothing by it.”
“No,” agreed Bundle. “It would have been much more hopeful if she’d thrown a boot at you or tried to bite you.”
“You modern young people seem to have such unpleasant ideas about lovemaking,” said Lord Caterham plaintively.
“It comes from reading The Sheik,” said Bundle. “Desert love. Throw her about, etc.”
“What is The Sheik?” asked Lord Caterham simply. “Is it a poem?”
Bundle looked at him with commiserating pity. Then she rose and kissed the top of his head.
“Dear old Daddy,” she remarked, and sprang lightly out of the window.
Lord Caterham went back to the Sale Rooms.
He jumped when addressed suddenly by Mr. Hiram Fish, who had made his usual noiseless entry.
“Good morning, Lord Caterham.”
“Oh, good morning,” said Lord Caterham. “Good morning. Nice day.”
“The weather is delightful,” said Mr. Fish.
He helped himself to coffee. By way of food, he took a piece of dry toast.
“Do I hear correctly that the embargo is removed?” he asked after a minute or two. “That we are all free to depart?”
“Yes—er—yes,” said Lord Caterham. “As a matter of fact, I hoped, I mean that I shall be delighted”—his conscience drove him on—“only too delighted if you will stay on for a little.”
“Why, Lord Caterham—”
“It’s been a beastly visit, I know,” Lord Caterham hurried on. “Too bad. Shan’t blame you for wanting to run away.”
“You misjudge me, Lord Caterham. The associations have been painful, no one could deny that point. But the English country life, as lived in the mansions of the great, has a powerful attraction for me. I am interested in the study of those conditions. It is a thing we lack completely in America. I shall be only too delighted to accept your vurry kind invitation and stay on.”
“Oh, well,” said Lord Caterham, “that’s that. Absolutely delighted, my dear fellow, absolutely delighted.”
Spurring himself on to a false geniality of manner, Lord Caterham murmured something about having to see his bailiff and escaped from the room.
In the hall, he saw Virginia just descending the staircase.
“Shall I take you into breakfast?” asked Lord Caterham tenderly.
“I’ve had it in bed, thank you. I was frightfully sleepy this morning.”
She yawned.
“Had a bad night, perhaps?”
“Not exactly a bad night. From one point of view decidedly a good night. Oh, Lord Caterham”—she slipped her hand inside his arm and gave it a squeeze—“I am enjoying myself. You were a darling to ask me down.”
“You’ll stop on for a bit, then, won’t you? Battle is lifting the—the embargo, but I want you to stay particularly. So does Bundle.”
“Of course I’ll stay. It’s sweet of you to ask me.”
“Ah!” said Lord Caterham.
He sighed.
“What is your secret sorrow?” asked Virginia. “Has anyone bitten you?”
“That’s just it,” said Lord Caterham mournfully.
Virginia looked puzzled.
“You don’t feel, by any chance, that you want to throw a boot at me? No, I can see you don’t. Oh, well, it’s of no consequence.”
Lord Caterham drifted sadly away, and Virginia passed out through a side door into the garden.
She stood there for a moment, breathing in the crisp October air which was infinitely refreshing to one in her slightly jaded state.
She started a little to find Superintendent Battle at her elbow. The man seemed to have an extraordinary knack of appearing out of space without the least warning.
“Good morning, Mrs. Revel. Not too tired, I hope?”
Virginia shook her head.
“It was a most exciting night,” she said. “Well worth the loss of a little sleep. The only thing is, today seems a little dull after it.”
“There’s a nice shady place down under that cedar tree,” remarked the superintendent. “Shall I take a chair down to it for you?”
“If you think it’s the best thing for me to do,” said Virginia solemnly.
“You’re very quick, Mrs. Revel. Yes, it’s quite true, I do want a word with you.”
He picked up a long wicker chair and carried it down the lawn. Virginia followed him with a cushion under her arm.
“Very dangerous place, that terrace,” remarked the detective. “That is, if you want to have a private conversation.”
“I’m getting excited again, Superintendent Battle.”
“Oh, it’s nothing important.” He took out a big watch and glanced at it. “Half-past ten. I’m starting for Wyvvern Abbey in ten minutes to report to Mr. Lomax. Plenty of time. I only wanted to know if you could tell me a little more about Mr. Cade.”
“About Mr. Cade?”
Virginia was startled.
“Yes, where you first met him, and how long you’ve known him and so forth.”
Battle’s manner was easy and pleasant enough. He even refrained from looking at her,
