Part 15 (1/2)
”Hope you don't mind my b.u.t.ting in, old chap!” he said as he shook hands with me. ”The mater telephoned that old Bundercombe and his daughter were here, so I just rushed round as quick as I could. Regular bricks they were to me out West! I don't see them anywhere.”
I glanced round the room. Just at that moment a waiter from the restaurant presented himself. He brought me a card upon a salver.
”The gentleman asked me to give you this, sir,” he announced.
I picked it up. On the back of a plain visiting card were a few hasty words, scrawled in pencil:
”So sorry--but Eve is not feeling quite herself and begged me to take her home at once quietly. My respects and apologies to you and all your delightful guests.”
I read it out and pa.s.sed it to Reggie. His face fell.
”If that isn't a sell!” he exclaimed. ”Fancy your knowing them! Isn't Miss Bundercombe a topper!”
”She is certainly one of the most charming young women I ever met in my life,” I admitted.
”I am glad, at any rate,” Lady Enterdean declared, ”that they have found their way to London. I shall make a point of calling on them myself tomorrow. Now, Paul, you must go and play bridge. They are waiting for you. Don't bother about me --I'll amuse myself quite well strolling round and talking to my friends.” I made up a rubber of bridge, chiefly with the idea of distracting my thoughts. Presently, while my partner was playing the hand, I rose and crossed the room to the sideboard for some cigarettes. I found Lady Enterdean peering about with her lorgnette fixed to her eyes, apparently searching for something.
”Lost anything, Lady Enterdean?” I asked.
”A most extraordinary thing has happened, my dear Paul!” she declared, resting her hand on the bosom of her gown. ”I am perfectly certain it was there a quarter of an hour ago--my cameo brooch, you know, the one that old Sir Henry brought home from Italy.”
”Too large to lose anyway,” I remarked cheerfully as I joined in the search.
We pulled aside a table and I almost collided with one of my most distinguished guests--Sir Blaydon Harrison, K.C.B. Sir Blaydon also, with an eyegla.s.s in his eye, was moving discontentedly backward and forward, kicking the carpet.
”Silly thing!” he observed as he glanced up for a moment. ”That little diamond charm of mine has slipped off my fob. I saw it as we crossed the foyer from the restaurant.”
”Why, what has happened to us all!” my sister joined in. ”Look at me--I've lost my pendant! Paul, did you give us too much to drink, or what?”
I am not sure that this was not the most awful moment of my life! A cold s.h.i.+ver of fear suddenly seized me. I looked from one to the other, speechless. If appearances had gone for anything at that moment I must indeed have looked guilty.
”Most extraordinary!” I mumbled.
”Oh! the things will turn up all right, without a doubt,” Lady Enterdean declared good-humoredly. ”Could we have a couple of waiters in and search properly, Paul? My knees are a little too old for this stooping.”
”If you'll please all wait a few minutes,” I begged earnestly, ”I'll go out and make inquiries. Sir Blaydon, take my place in that rubber of bridge--there's a good fellow. I'll have the restaurant searched too.
Don't mind if I am away a few minutes.”
I hurried out. As soon as the door of the private room was closed I made for the entrance of the restaurant as fast as I could sprint. Without hat or coat I jumped into a taxi, and in less than ten minutes I was mounting the stairs of Number 17, Banton Street, with the hall porter blinking at me from his office. I scarcely went through the formality of knocking at the door. Mr. Parker and Eve were both standing at the table, their heads close together. At the sound of my footsteps and precipitate entrance Mr.
Parker swung round. One hand was still behind him. Upon the table a white silk handkerchief was lying.
”My dear fellow!” he exclaimed. ”My dear Walmsley! What has happened?”
I opened my lips and closed them again. It really seemed impossible to say anything! Mr. Parker's expression had never been so boyish, so earnest, and yet so wistful. Eve was quivering with some emotion the nature of which I could not at once divine. I felt very certain, however, that she had been remonstrating with her father.
”Don't keep us in suspense, my dear fellow!” Mr. Parker implored. ”What has gone wrong? Eve and I were just--just talking over your delightful party.”
”And looking over the spoils!” I said grimly.