Suddenly a brilliant idea came to me.
"Did you know that Miss Annesley, the girl you saw on shipboard, is in Washington and was at the emba.s.sy last night?"
"No! You don"t say!" He was too clever for me. "When I get through with this exploit, Nancy"ll have to introduce me. Did you see her?"
"Yes, and talked to her. You see what you missed by not going last night."
"Yes, I missed a good night"s rest and a cold bath in the morning."
"Where shall I say you were last night?" I asked presently.
Mister James scratched his chin disconcertedly. "I hadn"t thought of that. Say that I met some of the boys and got mixed up in a little game of poker."
"You left your hat on the rack and your cane in the stand. You are supposed to have left the house without any hat."
"Hat!" He jumped up from the cot on which he had been sitting and picked up the groom"s tile. "Didn"t you bring me a hat?"--dismayed.
"You said nothing about it,"--and I roared with laughter.
"How shall I get out of here? I can"t wear this thing through the streets."
"I"ve a mind to make you wear it. And, by Jove, you shall! You"ll wear it to the hatter"s, or stay here. That"s final. I never back down, either."
"I"ll wear it; only, mark me, I"ll get even with you. I always did."
"_I_ am not a boy any longer,"--with an inflection on the personal p.r.o.noun. "Well, to continue about that excuse. You left the house without a hat, and you met the boys and played poker all night. That hitches wonderfully. You didn"t feel well enough to go to the emba.s.sy, but you could go and play poker. That sounds as if you cared a lot for your sister. And you wanted to stay at home the first night, because you had almost forgotten how the inside of a private dwelling looked.
Very good; very coherent."
"Cut it, Chuck. What the deuce excuse _can_ I give?"--worriedly lighting the cigar I had given him.
"My boy, I"m not making up your excuses; you"ll have to invent those.
I"ll be silent, but I refuse to lie to Nancy on your account. Poker is the only excuse that would carry any weight with it. You will have to let them believe you"re a heartless wretch; which you are, if you persist in this idiotic exploit."
"You don"t understand, Chuck. I wish I could tell you; honestly, I do.
The girls will have to think mean things of me till the farce is over.
I couldn"t escape if I wanted to."
"Is it Miss Annesley, Bob? Was it she whom you ran away with? Come, make a clean breast of it. If it"s she, why, that altogether alters the face of things."
He walked the length of the cell and returned. "I give up. You"ve hit it. You understand now. I simply can"t back away; I couldn"t if I tried."
"Are you in love with the girl?"
"That"s just what I want to find out, Chuck. I"m not sure. I"ve been thinking of her night and day. I never had any affair; I don"t know what love is. But if it"s shaking in your boots at the sound of her name, if it"s getting red in the face when you only just think of her, if it"s having a wild desire to pick her up and run away with her when you see her, then I"ve got it. When she stepped out of that confounded carriage last night, you could have knocked me over with a paper-wad.
Come, let"s go out. Hang the hat! Let them all laugh if they will. It"s only a couple of blocks to the hatter"s."
He bravely put the white hat on his head, and together we marched out of the police-office into the street. We entered the nearest hatter"s together. He took what they call a drop-kick out of the hat, sending it far to the rear of the establishment. I purchased a suitable derby for him, gave him ten dollars for emergencies, and we parted.
He proceeded to a telegraph office and sent a despatch to a friend up North, asking him to telegraph him to come at once, taking his chances of getting a reply. After this he boarded a north-going car, and was rolled out to Chevy Chase. He had no difficulty in finding the house of which he was in search. It was a fine example of colonial architecture, well back from the road, and fields beyond it. It was of red brick and white stone, with a wide veranda supported by great white pillars.
There was a modern portico at one side. A fine lawn surrounded the whole, and white-pebble walks wound in and out. All around were thickly wooded hills, gashed here and there by the familiar yet peculiar red clay of the country. Warburton walked up the driveway and knocked deliberately at the servants" door, which was presently opened. (I learned all these things afterward, which accounts for my accurate knowledge of events.)
"Please inform Miss Annesley that Mr. Osborne has come in reply to her letter," he said to the little black-eyed French maid.
"Ees Meestaire Osborrrrne zee new groom?"
"Yes."
"I go thees minute!" _Hein!_ what a fine-looking young man to make eyes at on cold nights in the kitchen!
Warburton sat down and twirled his hat. Several times he repressed the desire to laugh. He gazed curiously about him. From where he sat he could see into the kitchen. The French chef was hanging up his polished pans in a glistening row back of the range, and he was humming a little _chanson_ which Warburton had often heard in the restaurants of the provincial cities of France. He even found himself catching up the refrain where the chef left off. Presently he heard footsteps sounding on the hardwood floor, which announced that the maid was returning with her mistress.
He stood up, rested first on one foot, then on the other, and awkwardly shifted his new hat from one hand to the other, then suddenly put the hat under his arm, recollecting that the label was not such as servants wore inside their hats.
There was something disquieting in those magnetic sapphire eyes looking so serenely into his.
IX
THE HEROINE HIRES A GROOM
Remarkable as it may read, his first impression was of her gown--a gown such as women wear on those afternoons when they are free of social obligations, a gown to walk in or to lounge in. The skirt, which barely reached to the top of her low shoes, was of some blue stuff (stuff, because to a man"s mind the word covers feminine dress-goods generally, liberally, and handily), overshot with gray. Above this she had put on a white golfing-sweater, a garment which at that time was just beginning to find vogue among women who loved the fields and the road.
Only men who own to stylish sisters appreciate these things, and Warburton possessed rather observant eyes. She held a bunch of freshly plucked poppies in her hand. It was the second time that their glances had met and held. In the previous episode (on the day she had leaned out of the cab) hers had been first to fall. Now it was his turn. He studied the tips of his shoes. There were three causes why he lowered his eyes: First, she was mistress here and he was an applicant for employment; second, he loved her; third, he was committing the first bold dishonesty in his life. Once, it was on the very tip of his tongue to confess everything, apologize, and take himself off. But his curiosity was of greater weight than his desire. He remained silent and waited for her to speak.
"Celeste, you may leave us," said Miss Annesley.
Celeste courtesied, shot a killing glance at the tentative groom, and departed the scene.
"You have driven horses for some length of time?" the girl began.
If only he might look as calmly and fearlessly at her! What a voice, now that he heard it in its normal tone! "Yes, Madam; I have ridden and driven something like ten years."
"Where?"
"In the West, mostly."
"You are English?"
"No, Madam." He wondered how much she had heard at the police-court that morning. "I am American born."
"Are you addicted to the use of intoxicants?"--mentally noting the clearness of the whites of his eyes.
The barest flicker of a smile stirred his lips.
"No, Madam. I had not been drinking last night--that is, not in the sense the officers declared I had. It is true that I take a drink once in a while, when I have been riding or driving all day, or when I am cold. I have absolutely no appet.i.te."
She brushed her cheeks with the poppies, and for a brief second the flowers threw a most beautiful color over her face and neck.