Tavernake sat a few hours later at his evening meal in the tiny sitting-room of an apartment house in Chelsea. He wore a black tie, and although he had not yet aspired to a dinner coat, the details of his person and toilet showed signs of a new attention. Opposite to him was Beatrice.
"Tell me," she asked, as soon as the small maid-servant who brought in their first dish had disappeared, "what have you been doing all day?
Have you been letting houses or surveying land or book-keeping, or have you been out to Marston Rise?"
It was her customary question, this. She really took an interest in his work.
"I have been attending a rich American client," he announced, "a compatriot of your own. I went with her to Grantham House in her own motor-car. I believe she thinks of taking it."
"American!" Beatrice remarked. "What was her name?"
Tavernake looked up from his plate across the little table, across the bowl of simple flowers which was its sole decoration.
"She called herself Mrs. Wenham Garner!"
Away like a flash went the new-found peace in the girl"s face. She caught at her breath, her fingers gripped the table in front of her.
Once more she was as he had known her first--pale, with great terrified eyes shining out of a haggard face.
"She has been to you," Beatrice gasped, "for a house? You are sure?"
"I am quite sure," Tavernake declared, calmly.
"You recognized her?"
He a.s.sented gravely.
"It was the woman who stood in the chemist"s shop that night, signing her name in a book," he said.
He did not apologize in any way for the shock he had given her. He had done it deliberately. From that very first morning, when they had breakfasted together at London Bridge, he had felt that he deserved her confidence, and in a sense it was a grievance with him that she had withheld it.
"Did she recognize you?"
"Yes," he admitted. "I was sent for into the office and found her there with the chief. I felt sure that she recognized me from the first, and when she agreed to look at Grantham House, she insisted upon it that I should accompany her. While we were in the motor-car, she asked me about you. She wished for your address."
"Did you give it to her?" the girl cried, breathlessly.
"No; I said that I must consult you first."
She drew a little sigh of relief. Nevertheless, she was looking white and shaken.
"Did she say what she wanted me for?"
"She was very mysterious," Tavernake answered. "She spoke of some danger of which you knew nothing. Before I came away, she offered me a hundred pounds to let her know where you were."
Beatrice laughed softly.
"That is just like Elizabeth," she declared. "You must have made her very angry. When she wants anything, she wants it very badly indeed, and she will never believe that every person has not his price. Money means everything to her. If she had it, she would buy, buy, buy all the time."
"On the face of it," Tavernake remarked, soberly, "her offer seemed rather an absurd one. If she is in earnest, if she is really so anxious to discover your whereabouts, she will certainly be able to do so without my help."
"I am not so sure," Beatrice replied. "London is a great hiding place."
"A private detective," he began,--
Beatrice shook her head.
"I do not think," she said, "that Elizabeth will care to employ a private detective. Tell me, have you to see her upon this business again?"
"I am going to her flat at the Milan Court to-morrow morning at eleven o"clock."
Beatrice leaned back in her chair. Presently she recommenced her dinner.
She had the air of one to whom a respite has been granted. Tavernake, in a way, began to resent this continued silence of hers. He had certainly hoped that she would at least have gone so far as to explain her anxiety to keep her whereabouts secret.
"You must remember," he went on, after a short pause, "that I am in a somewhat peculiar position with regard to you, Beatrice. I know so little that I do not even know how to answer in your interests such questions as Mrs. Wenham Gardner asked me. I am not complaining, but is this state of absolute ignorance necessary?"
A new thought seemed to come to Beatrice. She looked at her companion curiously.
"Tell me," she asked, "what did you think of Mrs. Wenham Gardner?"
Tavernake answered deliberately, and after a moment"s reflection.
"I thought her," he said, "one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. That is not saying very much, perhaps, but to me it meant a good deal. She was exceedingly gracious and her interest in you seemed quite real and even affectionate. I do not understand why you should wish to hide from such a woman."
"You found her attractive?" Beatrice persisted.
"I found her very attractive indeed," Tavernake admitted, without hesitation. "She had an air with her. She was quite different from all the women I have ever met at the boarding-house or anywhere else. She has a face which reminded me somehow of the Madonnas you took me to see in the National Gallery the other day."
Beatrice shivered slightly. For some reason, his remark seemed to have distressed her.
"I am very, very sorry," she declared, "that Elizabeth ever came to your office. I want you to promise me, Leonard, that you will be careful whenever you are with her."
Tavernake laughed.
"Careful!" he repeated. "She isn"t likely to be even civil to me tomorrow when I tell her that I have seen you and I refuse to give her your address. Careful, indeed! What has a poor clerk in a house-agent"s office to fear from such a personage?"
The servant had reappeared with their second and last course. For a few moments they spoke of casual subjects. Afterwards, however, Tavernake asked a question.
"By the way," he said, "we are hoping to let Grantham House to Mrs.
Wenham Gardner. I suppose she must be very wealthy?"
Beatrice looked at him curiously.
"Why do you come to me for information?" she demanded. "I suppose that she brought you references?"
"We haven"t quite got to that stage yet," he answered. "Somehow or other, from her manner of talking and general appearance, I do not think that either Mr. Dowling or I doubted her financial position."
"I should never have thought you so credulous a person," remarked Beatrice, with a smile.
Tavernake was genuinely disturbed. His business instincts were aroused.