“Are you lost in admiration?” said the Major, once more at her elbow, in a slightly sarcastic tone. “That sort of thing is very taking and effective at first, but after a time—”
He did not finish his sentence, shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Half-past six chimed from a small clock on a bracket. Carriage after carriage was rolling away from the door now, and progress on the stairs was rendered difficult by a descending crowd.
A quarter to seven struck, the last handshaking had been gone through, and Mrs. Druce, looking hot and tired, had sunk into a chair at the Princess’s right hand, bending slightly forward to render conversation with her easy.
On the Princess’s left hand, Lady Gwynne had taken a chair, and sat in converse with Hafiz Cassimi, who stood beside her.
Evidently these four were on very easy and intimate terms with each other. Lady Gwynne had tossed her big picture hat on a chair at her left hand, and was fanning herself with a palm-leaf. Mrs. Druce, beckoning to the butler, desired him to bring them some claret-cup from the refreshment-room.
No one seemed to observe Loveday seated still in her nook beside the big palm.
She signaled to the Major, who stood looking discontentedly from one of the windows.
“That is a most interesting group,” she said; “now, if you like, you may introduce me to your mother.”
“Oh, with pleasure—under what name?” he asked.
“Under my own,” she answered, “and please be very distinct in pronouncing it, raise your voice slightly so that every one of those persons may hear it. And then, please add my profession, and say I am here at your request to investigate the circumstances connected with Mdlle. Cunier’s disappearance.”
Major Druce looked astounded.
“But—but,” he stammered, “have you seen anything—found out anything? If not, don’t you think it will be better to preserve your incognita a little longer.”
“Don’t stop to ask questions,” said Loveday sharply; “now, this very minute, do what I ask you, or the opportunity will be gone.”
The Major without further demur, escorted Loveday across the room. The conversation between the four intimate friends had now become general and animated, and he had to wait for a minute or so before he could get an opportunity to speak to his mother.
During that minute Loveday stood a little in his rear, with Lady Gwynne and Cassimi at her right hand.
“I want to introduce this lady to you,” said the Major, when a pause in the talk gave him his opportunity. “This is Miss Loveday Brooke, a lady detective, and she is here at my request to investigate the circumstances connected with the disappearance of Mdlle. Cunier.”
He said the words slowly and distinctly.
“There!” he said to himself complacently, as he ended; “if I had been reading the lessons in church, I couldn’t have been more emphatic.”
A blank silence for a moment fell upon the group, and even the butler, just then entering with the claret-cup, came to a standstill at the door.
Then, simultaneously, a glance flashed from Mrs. Druce to Lady Gwynne, from Lady Gwynne to Mrs. Druce, and then, also simultaneously, the eyes of both ladies rested, though only for an instant, on the big picture hat lying on the chair.
Lady Gwynne started to her feet and seized her hat, adjusting it without so much as a glance at a mirror.
“I must go at once; this very minute,” she said. “I promised Charlie I would back soon after six, and now it is past seven. Mr. Cassimi, will you take me down to my carriage?” And with the most hurried of leave-takings to the Princess and her hostess, the lady swept out of the room, followed by Mr. Cassimi.
The butler still standing at the door, drew back to allow the lady to pass, and then, claret-cup and all, followed her out of the room.
Mrs. Druce drew a long breath and bowed formally to Loveday.
“I was a little taken by surprise,” she began—
But here the Princess rose suddenly from the sofa.
“Moi, je suis fatiguée,” she said in excellent French to Mrs. Druce, and she too swept out of the room, throwing, as she passed, what seemed to Loveday a slightly scornful glance towards the Major.
Her two attendants, one carrying her fan, and the other her reclining cushions, followed.
Mrs. Druce again turned to Loveday.
“Yes, I confess I was taken a little by surprise,” she said, her manner thawing slightly. “I am not accustomed to the presence of detectives in my house; but now tell me what do you propose doing: how do you mean to begin your investigations—by going over the house and looking in all the corners, or by cross-questioning the servants? Forgive my asking, but really I am quite at a loss; I haven’t the remotest idea how such investigations are generally conducted.”
“I do not propose to do much in the way of investigation tonight,” answered Loveday as formally as she had been addressed, “for I have very important business to transact before eight o’clock this evening. I shall ask you to allow me to see Mdlle. Cunier’s room—ten minutes there will be sufficient—after that, I do not think I need further trouble you.”
“Certainly; by all means,” answered Mrs. Druce; “you’ll find the room exactly as Lucie left it, nothing has been disturbed.”
She turned to the butler, who had by this time returned and stood presenting the claret-cup, and, in French, desired him to summon her maid, and tell her to show Miss Brooke to Mdlle. Cunier’s room.
The ten minutes that Loveday had said would suffice for her survey of this room extended themselves to fifteen, but the extra five minutes assuredly were not expended by her in the investigation of drawers and boxes. The maid, a pleasant, well-spoken young woman, jingled her keys, and opened every lock, and seemed not at all disinclined to enter into the light gossip that Loveday contrived to set going.
She answered freely
