Jonah and Co Part 35

"I say," she cried, "I'm not coming."

One and all, we stared up amazedly.

"Not coming?" cried Daphne. "But, darling----"

Jill stamped her small foot.

"N-no," she said shakily. "I'm not. And--and, if he asks after me, say I'm awfully well, but I felt I wanted a walk. I'm going to take n.o.bby out."

Her skirts whirled, and she was gone.

Adele flew after her, while the rest of us stood whispering in the hall. Five minutes later the two descended together. But while we others climbed into the cars, Jill twitched a lead from the rack and took her stand upon the steps, with n.o.bby leaping for joy about her sides. And when she cried "Good-bye," there was a ring in her tone which sounded too glad to be true.

Mrs. Waterbrook was perfectly charming.

As we were ushered into a really beautiful salon, she rose from a little bureau--a tall, graceful figure, with ma.s.ses of pretty grey hair and warm brown eyes.

"My dear," she said to Daphne, "what a beautiful creature you are!" She turned to Adele. "As for you, if I were your husband, I'm afraid I should have a swelled head. Which is he? Ah, I see by the light in his eyes.... Of course, I ought to have called upon you, but I'm lazy by nature, and my car won't be here till to-morrow. And now I must thank you for being so kind to Piers. He ought to be here, of course.

But where he is, I don't know. I've hardly seen him since I arrived.

He seems to be crazy about his uncomfortable car. Went to Bordeaux and back yesterday--three hundred miles, if you please. I feel weak when I think of it. And now please tell me about yourselves. Beyond that you're all delightful, I've heard nothing from him."

I would not have believed that one woman could entertain five strangers with such outstanding success. Within five minutes Jonah and Daphne were by her side upon the sofa, Adele was upon the hearth at their feet. Berry was leaning against the mantelpiece, and I was sitting upon the arm of an adjacent chair, describing our meeting with Piers a fortnight ago.

"I don't know his age," I concluded. "I take it he's about nineteen.

But he's got the airs and graces of Peter Pan."

"Piers," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "is twenty-five. His mother was my sister. She married his father when she was seventeen. He was twenty years older than she, but they were awfully happy. The blood's pure English, although the t.i.tle's Italian. The fief of the duchy goes with it. They were given to Piers' great-grandfather--he was a diplomat--for services rendered. A recent attempt to dispossess the boy mercifully failed." She looked round about her. "By the way, I thought there were six of you. Piers gave me the number, but neither gender nor anything else."

"There's a female to come," said Berry. "But I don't think she will to-day. She's a wayward child. We'll send her round to apologise to-morrow."

Here coffee and chocolate were served.

"I must apologise," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "for giving you no tea. But there you are." She sighed. "What tea you can get in France reminds me of grocer's port. I won't touch it myself, and I haven't the face to offer it to my guests. I usually bring some from England; but I--I didn't this time." She pa.s.sed a hand across her eyes, as though to brush away a memory. "After all, you needn't come again, need you?"

"But we do the same," said Daphne. "We've given up tea. Up to last week, I clung to a cup before breakfast. But now I've stopped it."

"Yes," said Berry. "It was affecting her brain. Ten minutes after she'd swallowed it, she used to begin to wonder why she married me."

"I believe you," said Mrs. Waterbrook. "You can't drink French tea and be resigned. Now, a cup of well-made chocolate affords relief."

Before Berry could reply, she had pointed to an old china box and said that it contained cigarettes.

If she had said that it was full of black pearls, she could not have created more excitement. Besides, there was a confidence in her tone that set my nerves tingling. It was, I felt sure, no "grocer's port"

that she was commending. And I--we, with the exception of Berry, had not smoked a good cigarette for nearly six weeks....

As Jonah handed the box to Daphne, I strove to look unconcerned.

"And if anybody likes cigars," added Mrs. Waterbrook, "there are some in that silver box by Major Pleydell."

Berry started, said, "Oh--er--thanks very much," and opened the box.

Then he took out a cigar, idly enough.

I became conscious that Daphne's and Adele's eyes were upon me as Jonah brought me the cigarettes. I took one without looking, and stared back. Instantly their eyes shifted to the cigarette in my hand. I followed their gaze, to behold one of the brand which I had smoked invariably for seven years.

Dazedly I looked across at Berry, to see him regarding his cigar with bulging eyes....

As in a dream, I heard Jonah's voice.

"You must forgive my cousins. They're not being rude. To tell you the truth, we've recently had a bereavement. A particularly cherished friend, who was to furnish us all with tobacco for several months, disappeared in sickening circ.u.mstances only two days ago. The cigar and the cigarette have revived some painful memories."

Our hostess opened and closed her mouth before replying.

Then--

"What," she said faintly, "what was your--er--cherished friend like?"

Berry started to his feet.

"Both hinges gone," he shouted, "tied up with rope--reeking of pepper----"

Mrs. Waterbrook interrupted him with a shriek.

"He's outside my bedroom," she wailed. "By the side of the tall-boy.

I suppose it's too much to hope that you've got my tea."

"Tea?" we screamed.

"Tea," piped our hostess. "Beautiful China tea. Thirty-five pounds of it. Under the camisoles."

Berry raised his eyes to heaven.

"Modesty forbade us," he said, "to go further than the b-b-b-bust b-b-b-bodices."

It was in the midst of our rejoicing that Piers set foot on the verandah. For a moment he stood staring, pardonably bewildered, at the two smugglers, who were saluting one another respectively with a profound curtsey and the most elaborate of bows. Then he pulled open the great window and stepped hesitatingly into the room.

As he did so, the door was flung open, and a man-servant appeared.

"Mees Mansel," he announced.

n.o.bby entered anyhow, pleasedly lugging Jill into the room.

"Why, Jill!" cried Daphne. "My dear.... Mrs. Waterbrook, let me introduce----"

"_But that's not Miss Mansel!_"

It was Piers' voice.