Part 36 (1/2)

Mrs. Randal came to sit near her. Mrs. s.h.i.+rley edged close to Mrs. Damer and began to whisper. The two girls went softly into the conservatory.

Anne's fingers played on. Now and then Mrs. Randal spoke to her, thanked her or begged her to continue. But presently she moved away and Anne did not miss her. She was far too deeply engrossed in her own thoughts.

”Lady Carfax!”

She started, every nerve suddenly on the alert.

”Don't stop playing!” he said, and as it were involuntarily she continued to play.

”I am coming to see you to-morrow,” he went on. ”What time would you like me to call?”

She was silent. But the blood had risen in a great wave to her face and neck. She could feel it racing in every vein.

”Won't you answer me?” he said. ”Won't you fix a time?”

There was that in his voice that made her long earnestly to see his face, but she could not. With a great effort she answered:

”I am generally at home in the afternoon.”

”Then will you be out to the rest of the world?” he said.

She stilled the wild tumult of her heart with desperate resolution. ”I think you must take your chance of that.”

”I am not taking any chances,” he said. ”I will come at the fas.h.i.+onable hour if you prefer it. But--”

He left the sentence unfinished with a significance that was more imperious than a definite command.

Anne's fingers were trembling over the keys. Sudden uncertainty seized her. She forgot what she was playing, forgot all in the overwhelming desire to see his face. She m.u.f.fled her confusion in a few soft chords and turned round.

He was gone.

CHAPTER II

THE KERNEL OF THE DIFFICULTY

”I want to know!” said Capper, with extreme deliberation.

He was the best-known surgeon in the United States, and he looked like nothing so much as a seedy Evangelical parson. Hair, face, beard, all bore the same distinguis.h.i.+ng qualities, were long and thin and yellow.

He sat coiled like a much-knotted piece of string, and he seemed to possess the power of moving any joint in his body independently of the rest. He cracked his fingers persistently when he talked after a fas.h.i.+on that would have been intolerable in anyone but Capper. His hands were always in some ungainly att.i.tude, and yet they were wonderful hands, strong and sensitive, the colour of ivory. His eyes were small and green, sharp as the eyes of a lizard. They seemed to take in everything and divulge nothing.

”What do you want to know?” said Lucas.

He was lying in bed with the spring suns.h.i.+ne full upon him. His eyes were drawn a little. He had just undergone a lengthy examination at the hands of the great doctor.

”Many things,” said Capper, somewhat snappishly. ”Chief among them, why your tomfool brother--you call him your brother, I suppose?--brought me over here on a fool's errand.”

”He is my brother,” said Lucas quietly. ”And why a fool's errand? Is there something about my case you don't like?”

”There is nothing whatever,” said Capper, with an exasperated tug at his pointed beard. ”I could make a sound man of you. It wouldn't be easy.

But I could do it--given one thing, which I shan't get. Is the sun bothering you?”