Part 3 (1/2)
”We needn't talk of _him_, anyway!”
There was a hint of anger in the girl's protest; but her resentment was for the man who had humiliated her by breaking his appointment--_such_ an appointment!
She hurried on, trying to hide all signs of agitation. ”You see, Mrs.
Ellsworth once hoped to have Archdeacon Smith and his wife for friends.
They didn't care for her, but they loved my father--oh, long ago in the country, where we lived. When he died and I hadn't any money or training for work, they were nice to Mrs. Ellsworth for my sake--or, rather, for my father's sake--and persuaded her to take me as her companion. She was glad to do it to please them; but soon she realized that they didn't mean to reward her by being intimate.
”Poor woman, I was almost sorry for her disappointment! You see, she's a sn.o.b at heart, and though 'Smith' sounds a common name, both the Archdeacon and his wife have t.i.tled relations. So have I--and that was another reason for taking me. She adores a t.i.tle. Doesn't that sound pitiful? But she has few interests and no real friends, so she's never given up hope of 'collecting' the Smiths.
”That's why she lets me visit them. And when I happened to mention, for something to say, that the Archdeacon had an eccentric cousin in America who was afraid of hotels and even of visiting at their house because of a fad about burglars, she offered to give him the better of her two spare rooms whenever he came to England. I never thought he'd accept, but he did, only he would insist on paying.
”That's the story, if you can call it a story, for Mr. Ruthven Smith isn't a bit exciting nor interesting. When he appears--generally quite suddenly--he finds his room ready. He has his breakfast sent up, and lunches out at his club or somewhere. He mostly dines out, too, but he has a standing invitation to dine with Mrs. Ellsworth, and we always have good dinners when he is staying, to be ready in case of the worst.”
The man smiled, rather a charming smile, Annesley could not help noticing.
”In case of the worst!” he repeated. ”He must be deadly if his society bores you more than that of an old lady on whom, I suppose, you dance attendance morning, noon, and night. Now, my situation is so--er--peculiar that I ought to be thankful to exchange ident.i.ties with any man. But I wouldn't with Mr. Ruthven Smith for all his money and jewels.”
Annesley opened her eyes. ”Did I say anything about jewels?” she asked.
”No, you didn't,” the man a.s.sured her, ”except in mentioning the name of Ruthven Smith. Anybody who has lived in America as long as I have, a.s.sociates jewels with the name of Ruthven Smith. His 'Ruthven' lifts him far above the ruck of a _mere_ Smith--like myself, for instance”; and he smiled again.
Annesley began curiously to feel as if she knew him well. This made her more anxious to give him help--for it would not be helping a stranger: it would be helping a friend.
”I've heard, of course, that he's something--I'm not sure what--in a firm of jewellers,” she said. ”But I'd no idea of his being so important.”
”He's third partner with Van Vreck & Co.,” her companion explained. ”I've heard he joined at first because of his great knowledge of jewels and because he's been able to revive the lost art of making certain transparent enamels. The Van Vrecks sent for him from England years ago.
He buys jewels for the firm now, I believe. No doubt that's why he's in such a funk about burglars.”
”Fancy your knowing more about Mr. Smith than I know! Perhaps more than Mrs. Ellsworth knows!” exclaimed Annesley, forgetting the strain of expectation--the dread that a pair of mysterious, nightmare men might break up the dreamlike dinner-party for two.
”I don't know more about him than half America and Europe knows,” laughed the man. ”It's lucky I _do_ know something, though, as I may have to be mistaken for Ruthven Smith, and add an 'N' to his initials. I suppose he's not in England now by any chance?”
”No. It must be six or seven months since he was here last,” said Annesley. ”I don't think Mrs. Ellsworth has heard from him. She hardly ever does until a day or two before he's due to arrive; neither do his cousins.”
”A peculiar fellow, it would seem,” remarked her companion. And then, out of a plunge into thought, ”You say you've never seen the Mr. Smith you came to meet at the Savoy? How can you be sure it isn't old 'R. S.' as they call him at Van Vreck's, wanting to play you a trick--give you a surprise?”
Annesley shook her head. ”If you knew Mr. Ruthven Smith, you'd know that would be impossible. Why, I don't believe he remembers when I'm out of sight that I exist.”
”Still more peculiar! Miss Grayle, I haven't any right to ask you questions. But I shouldn't be a man if I weren't forgetting my own affairs--in--in curiosity, if you want to call it that (I don't!), about yours. No! I won't let it pa.s.s for ordinary curiosity. Can't you understand you're doing for me more than any woman ever has done, or any man would do? That does make a bond between us. You can't deny it. Tell me about this Mr. Smith whom you don't know and never saw, yet came to the Savoy Hotel to meet.”
CHAPTER III
WHY SHE CAME
Surprised by the abruptness of his question, Annesley's eyes dropped from the eyes of her host, which tried to hold them. She felt that she ought to be angry with him for taking advantage of her generosity--for it amounted to that! Yet anger would not come, only shame and the desire to hide a thing which would change his grat.i.tude to contempt.
”Don't let's waste time talking about me,” she said. ”We haven't arranged----”
”We've arranged everything as well as we can. For the rest, I must trust to luck--and you. Do tell me why you came here, why you _thought_ you came here, I mean; for I'm convinced you were sent for my sake by any higher powers there may be. I felt that, the minute I saw you. I feel it ten times more strongly now. I know that whatever your reason was, it's nothing to be ashamed of.”