Part 45 (1/2)

She looked up at him, hurt by his tone. ”Sara knows,” she said.

”There is no one else. But you are not to question her. I demand it of you.”

”I will wait for you to tell me,” he said gently.

CHAPTER XV

SARA WRANDALL FINDS THE TRUTH

Sara had kept the three Wrandalls over for luncheon.

”My dear,” said Mrs. Redmond Wrandall, as she stood before Hetty's portrait at the end of the long living-room, ”I must say that Brandon has succeeded in catching that lovely little something that makes her so--what shall I say?--so mysterious? Is that what I want? The word is as elusive as the expression.”

”Subtle is the word you want, mother,” said Vivian, standing beside Leslie, tall, slim and aristocratic, her hands behind her back, her manner one of absolute indifference. Vivian was more than handsome; she was striking.

”There isn't anything subtle about Hetty,” said Sara, with a laugh.

”She's quite ingenuous.”

Leslie was pulling at his moustache, and frowning slightly. The sunburn on his nose and forehead had begun to peel off in chappy little flakes.

”Ripping likeness, though,” was his comment.

”Oh, perfect,” said his mother. ”Really wonderful. It will make Brandon famous.”

”She's so healthy-looking,” said Vivian.

”English,” remarked Leslie, as if that covered everything.

”Nonsense,” cried the elder Mrs. Wrandall, lifting her lorgnette again. ”Pure, honest, unmixed blood, that's what it is. There is birth in that girl's face.”

”You're always talking about birth, mother,” said her son sourly, as he turned away.

”It's a good thing to have,” said his mother with conviction.

”It's an easy thing to get in America,” said he, pulling out his cigarette case. ”Have a cigarette, mother? Sara?”

”I'll take one, Les,” said Vivian. She selected one and pa.s.sed the case on to her mother. Sara shook her head.

”No, thanks,” she said.

Mrs. Redmond Wrandall laid her cigarette down without attempting to light it, a sudden frostiness in her manner. Vivian and Leslie blew long plumes of smoke from the innermost recesses of their lungs.

”Nerves?” asked Vivian mildly.

”I don't like Leslie's brand,” explained Sara.

”They're excellent, I think,” said Mrs. Wrandall, and thereupon accepted a light from Leslie.

”Well, let's be off,” said he, somewhat irritably. ”Tell Miss Castleton we're sorry to have missed her.”