Part 38 (1/2)

The gondola stopped, and Lord Deerehurst rose. As he offered her his hand, he looked searchingly into her face.

”Only time can prove the truth of that statement, Mrs. Milbanke!” he said in his thin voice.

In the mystery of her surroundings, the words seemed to Clodagh to possess a curious, almost a prophetic ring; and their echo lingered in her ears as she stepped from the gondola and entered the palace. But she was young; and to the young, action must ever outweigh suggestion.

She had scarcely mounted the old marble staircase before the excitement of her impending ordeal sent all other ideas spinning into oblivion.

There was adventure and experience in every succeeding moment.

At the head of the stairs they were met by an English man-servant. He stepped forward gravely, as if accustomed to the arrival of late callers; and, relieving Clodagh of her cloak, ushered her down a long corridor and through an arched doorway hidden by a velvet curtain.

The salon into which they were shown was large and high ceiled. The walls displayed some allegorical studies in the fresco work of which Barnard had spoken; the floor was bare of carpet and highly polished, reflecting the elaborately designed but scanty furniture and the wonderful gla.s.s chandeliers that hung from the ceiling; and in the three long windows that opened on the ca.n.a.l, stood groups of statuary.

During the moment that followed their entrance, Clodagh almost believed that the room was unoccupied, so wide and formal did it look; but a second glance convinced her of her mistake. At its further end four persons were playing cards at a small table, partly sheltered from the rest of the room by a ma.s.sive leather screen.

When their names were announced, no one at the table moved or even looked round; but immediately afterwards there was a stir amongst the players, and the light sound of cards thrown hastily down, followed by a quick laugh in a woman's voice.

”Game--and rubber! Well done, partner! How does the score stand, Tory?”

The owner of the laugh rose from her seat, and almost instantly turned to the door, revealing to Clodagh's curious eyes a strong, energetic face, redeemed from ugliness by a pair of intensely intelligent eyes and a mouth that displayed strong white teeth. It was the somewhat disconcerting face of a clever woman to whom life represents an undeniable--if an invigorating--struggle. Seeing the little group by the doorway, she hurried forward with an almost masculine a.s.surance.

”You poor, dear people!” she exclaimed in her strong voice. ”A thousand apologies! We were on the point of finis.h.i.+ng a most exciting rubber----” Her voice broke off short, as her eyes rested on Clodagh.

”Who is this, Barny?” she asked interestedly.

Barnard stepped forward, laying his hand smilingly on Clodagh's arm.

”This, my dear Frances,” he said, ”is a new friend that I want you to make! The wife of an old friend of mine. You may have met her husband--Mr. Milbanke--one of the Somerset Milbankes. Poor Sammy knew him well.”

Lady Frances Hope puckered her strong, a.s.sertive eyebrows.

”I believe I do remember meeting a Mr. Milbanke, but I scarcely think----” She looked scrutinisingly at Clodagh.

”Oh yes, it's the same!--it's the same!” Barnard's interruption was somewhat hasty. ”Mr. Milbanke is a great archaeologist. He and Mrs.

Milbanke are only in Venice for a week. I had intended bringing you to call formally at their hotel; but circ.u.mstances----”

Here Clodagh broke in.

”You must please, please forgive my doing such a very extraordinary thing as this,” she said. ”It was all Mr. Barnard's fault----”

But Lady Frances Hope cut the explanation short by holding out her hand.

”You are extremely welcome!” she said cordially. ”And if the truth must be told, I owe you a debt of grat.i.tude for saving me an afternoon call.

It's a hundred times pleasanter to meet like this. Now, let me see! You play bridge, of course. We can make up another four.”

She glanced over her guests with an organising eye.

Clodagh stepped forward deprecatingly and cast a beseeching look at Barnard. But in the slight pause that followed, it was Lord Deerehurst who came to her rescue.

”Mrs. Milbanke has just been confessing to us that she never plays cards,” he said smoothly. ”If you will go on with your game, Lady Frances, I shall do my best to amuse her.”