Part 11 (2/2)

She did not have long to wait. Riatt, with all the satisfaction in his bearing of one who has just bathed, shaved and eaten, came down to her at once.

”Good morning, Pro Bono Publico,” he said, just glancing about to be sure he was not overheard. ”It was not necessary to put this interview on an altruistic basis. I should have been glad to come to it, even if it had been as a favor to you.”

She looked at him with her hard, dark eyes. ”Isn't that rather a reckless way for a man in your situation to talk?”

”I was not aware that I was in a situation.”

This was exactly the expression that she had wanted from him. It seemed to come spontaneously, and could only mean that at least he was not newly engaged.

She relaxed the tension of her att.i.tude. ”Are you really under the impression that you're not?”

”I feel quite sure of it.”

”You poor, dear, innocent creature.”

”However,” he went on, sitting down beside her on the wide, low sofa, ”something tells me that I shall enjoy extremely having you tell me all about it.”

Tucking one foot under her, as every girl is taught in the school-room it is most unladylike to do, she turned and faced him. ”Mr. Riatt,” she said, ”when I was a child I used to let the mice out of the traps--not so much, I'm afraid, from tenderness for the mice, as from dislike of my natural enemy, the cook. Since then I have never been able to see a mouse in anybody's trap but my own, without a desire to release it.”

”And I am the mouse?”

She nodded. ”And in rather a dangerous sort of trap, too.”

He smiled at the seriousness of her tone.

”Ah,” said she, ”the self-confidence which your smile betrays is one of the weaknesses by which nature has delivered your s.e.x into the hands of mine. I would explain it to you at length, but the time is too short. The great offensive may begin at any moment. The Usshers have made up their minds that you are to marry Christine Fenimer. That was why you were asked here.”

”Innocent Westerner as I am,” he answered, ”that idea--”

She interrupted him. ”Yes, but don't you see it's entirely different now.

Now they really have a sort of hold on you. I don't know what Christine's own att.i.tude may be, but I can tell you this: her position was so difficult that she was on the point of engaging herself to Ned.”

”Oh, come,” said Riatt politely, ”your brother is not so bad as you seem to think.”

”He's not bad at all, poor dear. He's very good; but women do not fall in love with him. You, on the contrary, are rich and attractive. You'll just have to take my word for that,” she added without a trace of coquetry.

”And so--and so--and so, if I were you, my dear Cousin Max, I should give orders to have my bag packed at once, and take a very slow, tiresome train that leaves here at twelve-forty-something, and not even wait for the afternoon express.”

There was that in her tone that would have made the blood of any man run cold with terror, but he managed a smile. ”In my place you would run away?” he said.

She shook her head. ”No, I wouldn't run away myself, but I advise you to.

I shouldn't be in any danger. Being a mere woman, I can be cruel, cold and selfish when the occasion demands. But this is a situation that requires all the qualities a man doesn't possess.”

”What do you mean?”

”Does your heart become harder when a pretty woman cries? Is your conscience unmoved by the responsibility of some one else's unhappiness?

Can you be made love to without a haunting suspicion that you brought it on yourself?”

<script>