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The eyes of Faith, who sat on a bench at one side, travelled from David to her father constantly; and if, once or twice, the plain rebuke of Luke Claridge's look compelled her eyes upon her folded hands, still she was watchful and waiting, and seemed demurely to defy the convention of unblinking silence.
Smith read from a memorandum book: "Lord Lindenberry, who is a widower, lives there with his mother, the Dowager. The old lady is now up at their country place, in Yorkshire, and the Marquis went on to Aldershot last night after having dined with Edestone at Brooks's and dropping him at Claridge's at 12:15 A.M. The house is only partially opened; there are only a few of the old servants there."
Francis, at his second glance, was troubled with a vague sense of familiarity. "Let me answer your last question first, sir," the intruder begged. "I was seated alone, several tables away, when the couple next to you went out, and having had pointed out to me the other evening at Claridge's Hotel, and knowing well by repute, the great barrister, Mr.
Clarke was going to say good-by without any mention of Rosamund, but when they reached Claridge's she said: "Your wife and I didn't decide on a day for the Turkish songs. You remember I mentioned them to you the other night? I can't recollect whether she left it to me to fix a time, or whether I left it to her. Can you find out? Do tell her I was stupid and forgot. Will you?" Dion said he would.
He had died twenty years after the time when Luke Claridge, against the then custom of the Quakers, set up a tombstone to Mercy Claridge's memory behind the Meeting-house. Only thrice in those twenty years had he slept in a room of the Cloistered House. One of those occasions was the day on which Luke Claridge put up the grey stone in the graveyard, three years after his daughter's death.
But, even at the crest of the wave of temptation, words that he had heard one night in Hamley, that last night of all, flashed into his mind the words of old Luke Claridge's prayer, "And if a viper fasten on his hand, O Lord " Suddenly he paused. That scene in the old Meetinghouse swam before his eyes, got into his brain.
As Braybrooke knew everyone, he, of course, knew Garstin, and he wondered now why he had not recognized his back at Manchester Square. Perhaps his mind had been too engrossed with Fanny Cronin and the outrage at Claridge's. He only knew the painter slightly, just sufficiently to dislike him very much.
"Well, as soon as they found poor father and Monsieur Martin missing they sent over Monsieur Boullanger, the manager, to London, and he called upon Her Highness at Claridge's Hotel I think that was where she was staying. She said that after making the appointment with my father she was compelled to go away to Scotland, and could not keep it until the morning of the day on which he disappeared.
"I won't be a fool," I said. Then she kissed me and was off, and a few moments after I also started for Claridge's. I have a very nice little suite right up at the top, and if only it were respectable for me, and I could afford it, I could live here very comfortably by myself for a long time.
'Then have a headache, he persisted. 'Please, as her lips proceeded to form a negative. 'Some one would see us, and Lady Chisworth would declare war. 'Then let us dine in some obscure restaurant in Soho. 'There's no such thing, old dear. Soho is always full of the best people dining incog. Almost the only place where you are free from your friends is Claridge's.
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