The Sign of the Stranger Part 38

The very signature "Lol," combined with the fact of the portrait in the ring, confirmed my suspicion that there was affection between them.

I paced the room still utterly mystified.

At four o'clock I heard the horn of the motor in the avenue, and rushed forth to meet my love. She descended in dust-cloak and veil, and took my hand in silent greeting, but Keene, who was also at the door, whispered to her, and she walked away with him. I knew that he was telling her of all that had happened to me--and of the real reason of Marigold's absence.

She went to her room, and though I waited for an hour or more, she did not descend.

I sent a message up to Weston, and the reply was--

"Her ladyship has a very bad headache after the dust."

This I told Keene, who shrugged his shoulders.

At tea in the hall, where the guests were nearly all a.s.sembled--as gay and well-dressed a crowd as could be found in all England--the Countess approached me quite calmly, and said in a loud voice--

"George has just said that you've hurt your head, Mr Woodhouse. I'm so very sorry. How did you manage it?"

The woman's imperturbable daring was simply marvellous. Her question took me utterly aback.

"I--well, I slipped in the street, and fell," I stammered. "I gave my skull a nasty knock. I suppose it would have been fractured if I had not had such a thick head," I laughed, endeavouring to turn the conversation into a joke.

"Ah! You're inviting compliments now!" exclaimed the brilliant vivacious woman, whom surely none would suspect of a.s.sociating with those two men of the type of Belotto and Ostini.

"Any compliment from your ladyship is a compliment indeed," I declared, bowing with mock gravity, whereupon the party laughed, and I saw that she bit her lips in vexation. She knew that I was her enemy; and yet she dare not openly quarrel.

She feared lest I might announce to her husband and her guests her visit to Milan, and its tragic sequel.

Keene stood by, stroking his beard in wonder, half-fearing that she might burst forth in fury at my sneer and dreading the result of hot words between us.

Fortunately, however, she was discreet and laughed it off, while the Earl remarked as he pa.s.sed Lady Maud her cup--

"I like to hear Willoughby and Marigold quarrel. They slang each other so very gracefully. Willoughby, you'd make a splendid amba.s.sador.

You're so very diplomatic."

"I'm a good liar, if that's any qualification," I laughed openly.

"Somebody has said that the two essentials for success as an amba.s.sador are to have a lie ever ready on the lips, and a good coloured ribbon and cross at the throat."

"Ah! and that's pretty near the mark too," observed Lord Cotterstock, who had himself been in the diplomatic service. "It is said of Lord Barmouth that when he was Amba.s.sador at the Porte, he, for a joke, wore the Blue Ribbon, and the Turkish Court thought it the highest of British distinctions. He told the unspeakable ones that it was the Order of Saint Schweppe!"

Whereupon there was a general laugh.

Tea concluded, and the guests dispersed. I was surprised at the non-appearance of my beloved, for I longed to speak with her alone--to learn what had occurred during my enforced absence.

Keene accompanied the Earl and some others across to the kennels after tea, but by no amount of manoeuvring could I obtain an interview with the Countess alone. She walked in the garden with old Lady Cotterstock, in order that I should have no chance of speaking with her.

The house-party a.s.sembled in the white drawing-room prior to dinner, yet Lolita did not put in an appearance. I therefore sent one of the under-servants for the faithful Weston, who came to me at the top of the grand staircase.

"Her ladyship has a very bad headache, sir. She's been lying down. But she's now in her boudoir writing, and has told me that I am not to disturb her this evening."

"But isn't she going to dine?" I inquired in surprise.

"She hasn't dressed, sir. She said she, had no appet.i.te."

"She's not well, I believe, Weston," I said.

"No, sir," replied the maid anxiously. "I've noticed this last week or two a very great change in her. She seems highly nervous, and when alone always thinking very deeply, and--and--"

"And what?" I asked, seeing the excellent servant's hesitation.

"Well, sir, I don't know whether I really ought to mention it, but one thing worries me very much. You know, sir, I've been her ladyship's maid ever since she came back from school, and I'm much attached to her."

"I know, Weston. I know quite well," I said. "You are most devoted to her. But what is this you fear?"

"I really don't know, sir," was the young woman's answer. "But of late the young mistress's mind seems constantly filled with morbid thoughts.

She's always talking of her death--and only a few days ago she actually gave me some of her trinkets, saying that she would never require them again."

"That's strange," I said, sighing, for I, alas! knew the reason. "You must try and prevent her giving way to such thoughts. Go to her boudoir, and tell her that after dinner I desire to see her. I'll come up here later and see you--at nine o'clock."

"Very well, sir," was the maid's reply, and then I descended to the long meal, where the chatter was gay, and the serving of the most ceremonious character.

The brilliant women on either side of me interested me not a jot. My only thought was for my absent well-beloved.

After dinner I eagerly sought Weston, who said--"No, sir. She has not rung."

"Then take me to her," I said, "I wish to see her at once."

"But--"

"I will take the responsibility upon myself," I said. "Go and announce me."

Reluctantly the maid went along the corridor and tapped at the door.

There was no response. I stood behind her as she tapped twice, then opened the door. But the room was empty. The candles were burning upon the writing-table, and in the room was a smell of burnt paper, while in the grate lay a quant.i.ty of tinder. She had been destroying some letters or papers. Weston was aghast to find that her mistress was absent.

I went to the grate and saw that every particle of paper had been consumed.

The maid went along to my love's room, but emerged quickly, saying--

"I think her ladyship must have gone out. Her cape and motor-cap have gone."

In an instant it was evident that having destroyed her private papers she had slipped out into the park unseen.

I rushed downstairs, and finding Keene in the smoking-room took him quickly out into the hall, and told him of my grave apprehensions, whereupon he was in an instant on the alert.

"She surely cannot have carried out her threat!" he gasped. "We must try to find her at once. Not an instant must be lost! The burning of her papers is sufficient proof of the fatal step she contemplated.

Come, let's go in search at once."

And breathlessly, fearing the worst, we took our caps and hurried out into the chill windy night.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.