Part 58 (2/2)

And Mr. Prohack was suddenly much fonder of the boy and more inclined to see in him the possibility of genius. But he was aware of apprehension as to the relations forming between his son and Mimi. That girl appeared to be establis.h.i.+ng an empire over the great youthful prodigy of finance.

Was this desirable?... No, that was not the question. The question was: Would Eve regard it as desirable? He could never explain to his wife how deeply he had been touched by Mimi's mad solicitude for the slumber of Charlie's father. And even if he could have explained Eve would never have consented to understand.

CHAPTER XXI

EVE'S MARTYRDOM

I

After a magnificent night's sleep, so magnificent indeed that he felt as if he had never until that moment really grasped the full significance of the word ”sleep,” Mr. Prohack rang the bell for his morning tea. Of late he had given orders that he must not under any circ.u.mstances be called, for it had been vouchsafed to him that in spite of a mult.i.tude of trained servants there were still things that he could do for himself better than anybody else could do for him, and among them was the act of waking up Mr. Prohack. He knew that he was in a very good humour, capable of miracles, and he therefore determined that he would seize the opportunity to find the human side of Mr. Brool and make a friend of him. But the tea-tray was brought in by Mrs. Prohack, who was completely and severely dressed. She put down the tray and kissed her husband not as usual, but rather in the manner of a Roman matron, and Mr. Prohack divined that something had happened.

”I hope Brool hasn't dropped down dead,” said he, realising the foolishness of his facetiousness as he spoke.

Eve seemed to be pained.

”Have you slept better?” she asked, solicitous.

”I have slept so well that there's probably something wrong with me,”

said he. ”Heavy sleep is a symptom of several dangerous diseases.”

”I'm glad you've had a good night,” she began, again ignoring his maladroit flippancy, ”because I want to talk to you.”

”Darling,” he responded. ”Pour out my tea for me, will you? Then I shall be equal to any strain. I trust that you also pa.s.sed a fair night, madam. You look tremendously fit.”

Visions of Lady Ma.s.sulam flitted through his mind, but he decided that Eve, seriously pouring out tea for him under the lamp in the morning twilight of the pale bedroom, could not be matched by either Lady Ma.s.sulam or anybody else. No, he could not conceive a Lady Ma.s.sulam pouring out early tea; the Lady Ma.s.sulams could only pour out afternoon tea--a job easier to do with grace and satisfaction.

”I have not slept a wink all night,” said Eve primly. ”But I was determined that nothing should induce me to disturb you.”

”Yes?” Mr. Prohack encouraged her, sipping the first glorious sip.

”Well, will you believe me that Sissie slipped out last night after dinner without saying a word to me or any one, and that she didn't come back and hasn't come back? I sat up for her till three o'clock--I telephoned to Charlie, but no! he'd seen nothing of her.”

”Did you telephone to Ozzie?”

”Telephone to Ozzie, my poor boy! Of course I didn't. I wouldn't have Ozzie know for anything. Besides, he isn't on the telephone at his flat.”

”That's a good reason for not telephoning, anyway,” said Mr. Prohack.

”But did you ever hear of such a thing? The truth is, you've spoilt that child.”

”I may have spoilt the child,” Mr. Prohack admitted. ”But I have heard of such a thing. I seem to remember that in the dear dead days of dancing studios, something similar occurred to your daughter.”

”Yes, but we did know where she was.”

”You didn't. I did,” Mr. Prohack corrected her.

<script>