Part 34 (1/2)

Erroll did not go to the office this afternoon?”

Neergard looked at her--almost--a fixed and uncomfortable smirk on his round, red face: ”Not at all, Mrs. Ruthven, if you have anything better for him--”

”I have--an allopathic dose of it. Thank you, Mr. Neergard.

Rosamund, we ought to start, you know: Gerald!”--with quiet significance--”_good_-bye, Mr. Neergard. Please do not buy up the rest of Long Island, because we need a new kitchen-garden very badly.”

Rosamund scarcely nodded his dismissal. And the next moment Neergard found himself quite alone, standing with the smirk still stamped on his stiffened features, his hat-brim and gloves crushed in his rigid fingers, his little black mousy eyes fixed on nothing, as usual.

A wandering head-waiter thought they were fixed on him and sidled up hopeful of favours, but Neergard suddenly snarled in his face and moved toward the door, wiping the perspiration from his nose with the most splendid handkerchief ever displayed east of Sixth Avenue and west of Third.

Mrs. Ruthven's motor moved up from its waiting station; Rosamund was quite ready to enter when Alixe said cordially: ”Where can we drop you, dear? _Do_ let us take you to the exchange if you are going there--”

Now Rosamund had meant to go wherever they were going, merely because they evidently wished to be alone. The abruptness of the check both irritated and amused her.

”If I knew anybody in the Bronx I'd make you take me there,” she said vindictively; ”but as I don't you may drop me at the Orchils'--you uncivil creatures. Gerald, I know _you_ want me, anyway, because you've promised to adore, honour, and obey me... . If you'll come with me now I'll play double dummy with you. No? Well, of all ingrat.i.tude! ...

Thank you, dear, I perceive that this is Fifth Avenue, and furthermore that this ramshackle cha.s.sis of yours has apparently broken down at the Orchils' curb... . Good-bye, Gerald; it never did run smooth, you know. I mean the course of T.L. as well as this motor. Try to be a good boy and keep moving; a rolling stone acquires a polish, and you are not in the moss-growing business, I'm sure--”

”Rosamund! For goodness' sake!” protested Alixe, her gloved hands at her ears.

”Dear!” said Rosamund cheerfully, ”take your horrid little boy!”

And she smiled dazzlingly upon Gerald, then turned up her pretty nose at him, but permitted him to attend her to the door.

When he returned to Alixe, and the car was speeding Parkward, he began again, eagerly:

”Jack asked me to come up and, of course, I let you know, as I promised I would. But it's all right, Mrs. Ruthven, because Jack said the stakes will not be high this time--”

”You accepted!” demanded Alixe, in quick displeasure.

”Why, yes--as the stakes are not to amount to anything--”

”Gerald!”

”What?” he said uneasily.

”You promised me that you would not play again in my house!”

”I--I said, for more than I could afford--”

”No, you said you would not play; that is what you promised, Gerald.”

”Well, I meant for high stakes; I--well, you don't want to drive me out altogether--even from the perfectly harmless pleasure of playing for nominal stakes--”

”Yes, I do!”

”W-why?” asked the boy in hurt surprise.

”Because it is dangerous sport, Gerald--”

”What! To play for a few cents a point--”