"Are you interested in cricket, Miss Van Hoyt?" I asked inanely.
"Not in the least," she answered. "I have a list somewhere--in my purse, I think--of English inst.i.tutions which must be studied before one can understand your country-people. Cricket, I believe, is second on the list. Your cousin was kind enough to tell me about this match, and how to get here."
"We are staying at the same hotel, I think," I remarked.
"Very likely," she answered, "I am only in London for a short time. Is the cricket over for the day now?"
I hastened to explain the luncheon arrangements. She rose at once.
"Then we will go," she said, turning to her maid and addressing her in French. "Janette, we depart!"
The maid rose with suspicious alacrity. The spaniel yawned and looked at me out of the corner of his black eye. I believe that he recognized me.
"Dare I ask you to honor us by lunching with my cousin and myself here, Miss Van Hoyt?" I asked eagerly.
She smiled very slightly, but the curve of her lips was delightful.
"And see more cricket?" she asked. "No! I think not--many thanks all the same!"
"I will put you in a hansom," my cousin said, turning towards her and ignoring me.
She looked over her shoulder and nodded. The maid looked at me out of her great black eyes, as though daring me to follow them, and, was it my fancy, or did that little morsel of canine absurdity really show me its white teeth on purpose? Anyhow, they strolled away, and left me there. I waited for Gilbert.
He reappeared in about five minutes, with a hateful smirk upon his well-cut but somewhat pasty features. I laid my hand upon his arm.
"Where did you meet her, Gilbert?" I asked. "Who is she? Where does she come from? How long have you known her?"
"Gently, my dear fellow!" he answered calmly. "I met her at Lady Tredwell"s about a fortnight ago. I really know very little about her, except that she seems a charming young lady."
"Where does she come from?" I asked--"what country, I mean? She speaks like a foreigner!"
"Oh! she"s American, of course," he told me--"a young American lady of fortune, I believe."
"American," I repeated vaguely, "are you sure?"
"Perfectly!" he answered.
"Any relatives here?" I asked.
"None that I know of," he admitted.
"Any connection with the stage?"
"Certainly not! I told you that I met her at Lady Tredwell"s."
We walked into the luncheon room in silence. Presently my cousin showed signs of irritation.
"What the mischief are you so glum about?" he asked.
I looked up.
"I am not glum," I answered. "I was just thinking that the Hotel Universal seemed rather a queer place for a young lady with a French maid, a j.a.panese spaniel, and--no chaperon."
"You are an a.s.s!" my cousin declared.
It was not until the evening that Gilbert unbent. When, however, he studied the menu of the dinner which I had ordered for his delectation, and learned that I had invited his particular friend, Lord Kestelen, to meet him, he invited me to descend below to the American bar and take a c.o.c.ktail while we waited for our guest.
"By the bye, Jim," he remarked, slipping his arm through mine, "I thought that Miss Van Hoyt was particularly inquisitive about you this morning."
"In what way?" I asked, at once interested.
"She wanted to know what you did--how you spent your time. When I told her that you had no profession, that you did nothing except play cricket and polo, and hunt and shoot, she seemed most unaccountably surprised.
She appeared almost incredulous when I told her that you seldom came to London, and still more seldom went abroad. I wonder what she had in her head?"
"I have no idea," I answered thoughtfully. "I suppose it was only ordinary curiosity. In America all the men do something."
"That must be so, no doubt," my cousin admitted, "but it didn"t sound like it. I wonder whether we shall see her this evening?"
I did not wonder at all! It seemed to me that I knew!
CHAPTER V
ON THE TERRACE
It was not until after my guests had departed, and I had almost given up hope, that I caught sight of her. She was seated at a table in the writing-room, and was in the act of sealing a letter. She looked up as I entered, and, after a second"s hesitation, bowed coldly. I summoned up all my pluck, however, and approached her.
"Good evening, Miss Van Hoyt!" I said.
"Good evening, Mr. Courage!" she answered, proceeding to stamp her envelope.
"Have you been to the theatre?" I asked.
"Not this evening," she replied; "I have been to a meeting."
"A meeting!" I repeated; "that sounds interesting!"
"I doubt whether you would have found it so," she answered dryly.
Her manner, without being absolutely repellent, was far from encouraging.
I found myself in the embarra.s.sing position of having nothing left to say. I gave up all attempt at conversational philandering.
"May I talk to you for a few minutes, Miss Van Hoyt?" I asked.