Part 25 (1/2)
Somehow, they all breathe freer after that pretty falsehood. John Burrill regains his composure, and relapses into his former state of comfortable gloating. Another face is added to the circle of high-bred people around him. He does not talk much, for he is not yet quite at his ease when in conversation with them. As they talk, he thinks what a fine nest this is which he has gained for himself; what a lovely woman is his wife; and how splendidly handsome is Miss Wardour. He thinks how, by and by, he will boast to some of his choice spirits, of his friends.h.i.+p for Miss Wardour, and of the value in which she holds his esteem. He thinks how good is the Lamotte cook, and how, presently, he will sample the Lamotte wines, and smoke a splendid segar; and then he p.r.i.c.ks up his ears and listens, for the conversation has drifted away from the commonplace, and Miss Wardour is saying:
”It really is a forlorn hope, I fear, Mr. Lamotte. I don't know what to reply to Mr. Belknap, but I think he is wasting his time, and I my money; and, if you will communicate with him, as he failed to name his address in his note to me, we will close up the case.”
”And say farewell to your diamonds?”
”I have performed that ceremony some time since. I really am worn out with the subject. At some other time I may resume the search.”
”You are getting discouraged.”
”Call it that, if you like.”
”Excuse me, if I pursue so wearisome a subject, Constance; but--does not Mr. Belknap hint at a new clue in this note of his? You must know he has written me also.”
”He hints, and very vaguely.”
”Well, I am anxious to look into this matter a little further. As a special favor to me will you retain the services of Mr. Belknap a little longer?”
”As you make such a point of it, yes, Mr. Lamotte; but--do you really hope to find anything new, at this late day?”
”I really do, my child, but can not put my ideas in shape, as yet. I think we shall have Mr. Belknap among us soon.”
”Well, don't let him persecute me, that's all,” stipulated Constance. ”I have lost my faith in detectives.”
”All this talk reminds me, Constance,” interrupted Sybil, ”mamma has had her diamonds reset for me, and they are really beautiful; besides which, papa and Mr. Burrill have added to the collection, so that in the absence of yours, I may set myself up as diamond queen. Come to my room and be dazzled.”
”And leave us under a cloud,” chimed in Frank. ”Burrill, come, let's adjourn to the billiard room, and have a segar;” and intent upon keeping his brother-in-law in order during the time Constance should be under the roof, he slapped him cordially on his brawny shoulder, and they went out in most amiable and brotherly fas.h.i.+on, and entered the billiard room, where Frank permitted Burrill to cheat at the game, and eventually win it, much to the delight of that personage.
When they had left the morning room, Evan Lamotte, too, sauntered out and down the hall, and, hearing their voices in amiable dialogue, interspersed by the click of the billiard b.a.l.l.s, he muttered:
”Ah, Constance, you are a witch indeed! you have made my magnificent brother adopt my _role_ for once; so long as you are here we may depend upon Frank to keep our bull out of the china shop. So, as one good turn deserves another, I will just give your mare a turn and look in at 'Old Forty Rods;' I'm safe to go off duty for the day.”
And ten minutes later the reckless youth was galloping Frank's blooded mare along the highway _en route_ for the saloon known to the initiated as ”Old Forty Rods.”
Left alone together, Mr. Jasper Lamotte and his wife gazed at each other in silence for a moment, and then he said:
”Do you think it safe to leave them alone together too long?”
”Who, Frank and----”
”Pshaw, no; the girls.”
”It is quite safe; nevertheless I will go up to them,” and Mrs. Lamotte arose and went slowly up the stairs, and softly past the door where Sybil and Constance sat together, straight to her own room, which she entered, closed and locked the door carefully, and allowing the look of haughty calm to die out of her face, she threw herself into a dressing chair, and pressed two feverish hands against a face that was sad and bitter and full of weariness.
Left to his own devices, Jasper Lamotte seated himself at a desk and dashed off a few hurried lines, which he directed to
”Mr. Jerry Belknap, ”No. --, Room 7, Blank St., ”N. Y.”
CHAPTER XV.