“Yes, she has a history. She is only remotely connected with the present reigning dynasty in Turkey, and I dare say her princess-ship has been made the most of. All the same, however, she has had an altogether exceptional career for an Oriental lady. She was left an orphan at an early age, and was consigned to the guardianship of the elder Cassimi by her relatives. The Cassimis, both father and son, seem to be very advanced and European in their ideas, and by them she was taken to Cairo for her education. About a year ago they ‘brought her out’ in London, where she made the acquaintance of Major Druce. The young man, by-the-way, appears to be rather hotheaded in his lovemaking, for within six weeks of his introduction to her their engagement was announced. No doubt it had Mrs. Druce’s fullest approval, for knowing her son’s extravagant habits and his numerous debts, it must have been patent to her that a rich wife was a necessity to him. The marriage, I believe, was to have taken place this season; but taking into consideration the young man’s ill-advised attentions to the little Swiss girl, and the fervour he is throwing into the search for her, I should say it was exceedingly doubtful whether—”
“Major Druce, sir, wishes to see you,” said a clerk at that moment, opening the door leading from the outer office.
“Very good; show him in,” said Mr. Dyer. Then he turned to Loveday.
“Of course I have spoken to him about you, and he is very anxious to take you to his mother’s reception this afternoon, so that you may have a look round and—”
He broke off, having to rise and greet Major Druce, who at that moment entered the room.
He was a tall, handsome young fellow of about seven or eight and twenty, “well turned out” from head to foot, moustache waxed, orchid in buttonhole, light kid gloves, and patent leather boots. There was assuredly nothing in his appearance to substantiate his statement to Mr. Dyer that he “hadn’t slept a wink all night, that in fact another twenty-four hours of this terrible suspense would send him into his grave.”
Mr. Dyer introduced Miss Brooke, and she expressed her sympathy with him on the painful matter that was filling his thoughts.
“It is very good of you, I’m sure,” he replied, in a slow, soft drawl, not unpleasant to listen to. “My mother receives this afternoon from half past four to half past six, and I shall be very glad if you will allow me to introduce you to the inside of our house, and to the very ill-looking set that we have somehow managed to gather about us.”
“The ill-looking set?”
“Yes; Jews, Turks, heretics and infidels—all there. And they’re on the increase too, that’s the worst of it. Every week a fresh importation from Cairo.”
“Ah, Mrs. Druce is a large-hearted, benevolent woman,” interposed Mr. Dyer; “all nationalities gather within her walls.”
“Was your mother a large-hearted, benevolent woman?” said the young man, turning upon him. “No! well then, thank Providence that she wasn’t; and admit that you know nothing at all on the matter. Miss Brooke,” he continued, turning to Loveday, “I’ve brought round my hansom for you; it’s nearly half past four now, and it’s a good twenty minutes’ drive from here to Portland Place. If you’re ready, I’m at your service.”
Major Druce’s hansom was, like himself, in all respects “well turned out,” and the India rubber tires round its wheels allowed an easy flow of conversation to be kept up during the twenty minutes’ drive from Lynch Court to Portland Place.
The Major led off the talk in frank and easy fashion.
“My mother,” he said, “prides herself on being cosmopolitan in her tastes, and just now we are very cosmopolitan indeed. Even our servants represent divers nationalities; the butler is French, the two footmen Italians, the maids, I believe, are some of them German, some Irish; and I’ve no doubt if you penetrated to the kitchen-quarters, you’d find the staff there composed in part of Scandinavians, in part of South Sea Islanders. The other quarters of the globe you will find fully represented in the drawing-room.”
Loveday had a direct question to ask.
“Are you certain that Mdlle. Cunier had no friends in England?” she said.
“Positive. She hadn’t a friend in the world outside my mother’s four walls, poor child! She told me more than once that she was ‘seule sur la terre
.’ ” He broke off for a moment, as if overcome by a sad memory, then added: “But I’ll put a bullet into him, take my word for it, if she isn’t found within another twenty-four hours. Personally I should prefer settling the brute in that fashion to handing him over to the police.”
His face flushed a deep red, there came a sudden flash to his eye, but for all that, his voice was as soft and slow and unemotional, as though he were talking of nothing more serious than bringing down a partridge.
There fell a brief pause; then Loveday asked another question.
“Is Mademoiselle Catholic or Protestant, can you tell me?”
The Major thought for a moment, then replied:
“ ’Pon my word, I don’t know. She used sometimes to attend a little charge in South Savile Street—I’ve walked with her occasionally to the church door—but I couldn’t for the life of me say whether it was a Catholic, Protestant, or Pagan place of worship. But—but you don’t think those confounded priests have—”
“Here, we are in Portland place,” interrupted Loveday. “Mrs. Druce’s rooms are already full, to judge from that long line of carriages!”
“Miss Brooke,” said the Major suddenly, bethinking himself of his responsibilities, “how am I to introduce you? what role will you take up this afternoon? Pose as a faddist of some sort, if you want to win my mother’s heart. What do you say to having started a grand scheme for supplying Hottentots and Kaffirs with eyeglasses? My mother would swear eternal friendship with you at once.”
“Don’t
