Part 17 (1/2)

Lola shrugged her shoulders. ”So far as I know at present, my plans will keep me in town until the end of June.” How could she be more definite than that?

So Chalfont had to be satisfied and hope for the best. It was not his habit to drive people into a corner and force confidences. He had told Lola where he was to be found and she had promised to keep in touch with him. That, at any rate, was good. ”We haven't decided where to go to-night,” he said. ”Don't you think we'd better make up our minds?”

Lola rose from the table. The pleasant dining room at the Carlton was still well-filled, and the band was playing one of those French things with an irresistible march time which carry the mind immediately to the Alcazar and conjure up a picture of an outdoor stage crowded with dancing figures seen through a trickle of cigarette smoke and gently moving branches of young leaves. ”Don't let's make up our minds what we'll do till we get to the very doors. Then probably one or other of us will have a brain wave. In any case I'm very happy. I've loved every minute of this evening and it's so nice to be with you again.”

Chalfont touched her arm. He could not resist the temptation. ”I'd sell my soul in return for a dozen such nights,” he said, and there was a Simpkins quiver in his voice and a Treadwell look of adoration in his eyes. He was in uniform, having later to return to the Guards encampment in Kensington Gardens. They pa.s.sed through the almost empty lounge into the hall with its cases of discreet, ruinous jewelry on the walls under gleaming lights, and there a man in plain clothes drew himself up as Chalfont approached and clicked his heels.

”Oh, h.e.l.lo, Ellingham,” said Chalfont. ”How are you, my dear chap?

Thought you were in India.”

”I was, Sir. Got back yesterday. Curious place, London, by Jove.”

Chalfont turned to Lola. ”Madame de Breze, may I introduce my friend Colonel Ellingham?”

Those tall dark men with a touch of the Oriental in them somewhere-Lola caught her breath, but managed to smile and say the conventional thing.

But at the sound of her voice, the woman who had been standing with her back to them, talking to the obsequious _maitre d'hotel_, whirled round.

It was Feo-Feo with her eyes wide and round and full of the most astonis.h.i.+ng mischief and amus.e.m.e.nt-Feo with her mouth half open as though she were on the point of bursting into a huge laugh. Lola, that discreet little Lola, that little London mouse, niece of the stiff old Breezy, daughter of those little people in Queen's Road, Bayswater, with a brigadier general, if you please, the famous Sir Peter Chalfont with a comic cork arm to catch whom every match-making mother had spread her net for years!

Without turning a hair, Lola held out her hand impulsively. ”My dear,”

she said in a ringing voice, ”I thought you said that you were going to the Ritz.”

Her own words as she had left her dressing room came back into Feo's mind. ”You're a jolly good sportsman, child.”-Well, although she could hardly believe her eyes and the incident opened up the widest range of incredulity, she would show this astonis.h.i.+ng girl that there were other sportsmen about. ”We went to the Ritz,” she replied, as though to one of her ”gang,” ”but it looked hideously depressing and so we came on here.”

And she went forward and put her arm around Lola's shoulder in her most affectionate way. How well her old frock came out on that charming figure. She suspected the shoes and stockings. ”So this is what you do, Lola, when the cat's away!”

And Lola laughed and said, ”Oh, but doesn't one deserve a little holiday from time to time?”

”Of course,-and you who are so devoted to good causes.”

”The best of causes and the most beautiful.” Lola would return the ball until she dropped.

Feo knew this and had mercy, but there was an amazing glint in her eyes.

The little monkey!

It was obvious to Lola that Feo had not met Chalfont or else that she had met him and was not on speaking terms. Either way how could she resist the chance that had been brought about by this extraordinary contretemps. So she said, ”Lady Feo, may I introduce my old friend, Sir Peter Chalfont,-Lady Feodorowna Fallaray.”

It so happened that these two had not met,-although Feo's was not the fault. It was that Chalfont disliked the lady and had gone deliberately out of his way to avoid her acquaintance. He bowed profoundly.-Lola, her name was Lola. What a dear little name.

”We've got a box at the Adelphi,” said Feo. ”Berry's funny and Grossmith's always good. There's room for four. Won't you come?” What did she care at the moment whether this invitation made Ellingham's eyes flick with anger or not. All this was too funny for words.-That little monkey!

”Thanks so much,” said Lola, with a slight drawl, ”but it so happens that we're going round to the House of Commons to hear a debate. Perhaps we can foregather some other night.” And she looked Feo full in the face, as cool as a fish.

It didn't matter what was said after that. There was a murmur from the other three and a separation, Ellingham marching the laughing Feo away, Chalfont crossing over to the hatroom, greatly relieved. Lola, alone for a moment, stood in the middle of what seemed to be an ocean of carpet under hundreds of thousands of lights, with her heart playing ducks and drakes, but with a sense of thrill and exultation that were untranslatable. ”What a sportsman,” she thought.-”But of course she noticed her stockings.”

And when Chalfont returned to her side he said, ”I don't like your knowing that woman. You seem frightfully pally. You didn't tell me that she was a great friend of yours.”

”Well,” said Lola, ”I haven't told you very much of anything, have I?