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She had a keen sense of fun and her sly little sallies, sometimes aimed at her father, sometimes at Lydia's expense, but more often directed at people in the social world, whose names were household words, kept Lydia in a constant gurgle of laughter. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer alone was nervous and ill at ease.
You haven't the slightest idea " "Not the slightest idea," said Lydia, answering the unspoken question. "I'll see Mrs. Cole-Mortimer and get her to change your bed there's another room you could have," suggested Jean. She went back to her own apartment, bathed and dressed leisurely.
"What do you want me to do with it?" he said as he slipped the weapon in his pocket. She laughed. "On your way to bed, come in to my room," she said. "I've quite a lot to tell you," and she sailed into the drawing-room to interrupt Mrs. Cole-Mortimer, who was teaching a weary Lydia the elements of bezique. "Where have you been, Jean?" asked Lydia, putting down her cards.
That the yacht had been chartered that morning and the house hired by telegram on the previous day, she could not be expected to guess. For all she knew, Mrs. Cole-Mortimer might be a very wealthy woman, and in her wildest dreams she did not imagine that Jean Briggerland had provided the money for both. It had not been a delicate negotiation, because Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had the skin of a pachyderm.
Lydia took up her quarters in a quiet hotel in Nice and Mrs. Cole-Mortimer agreed to stay on and chaperon her. Though she had felt no effects from her terrifying experience on the first day, she found herself a nervous wreck when she woke in the morning, and wisely decided to stay in bed. Jack, who had expected the relapse, called in a doctor, but Lydia refused to see him.
"Your foolhardiness appals me, and heaven knows, I never expected that I should be in a position to call you foolhardy." And with this she left him to bask in the hero-worship which the approaching Mrs. Cole-Mortimer would lavish upon him. The "accident" kept them at home that night, and Lydia was not sorry.
Cole-Mortimer had a call to make in Monte Carlo and the girl sat back in the car and drank in the beauty of this delicious spot, whilst her hostess interviewed the house agent. Surely the place must be kept under glass. It looked so fresh and clean and free from stain. The Casino disappointed her it was a place of plaster and stucco, and did not seem built for permanent use.
We'll be in calm water soon, for the rest of our lives." "I hope so," he said without any great conviction. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer was prostrate and in bed, and Jean had no patience to see her. She herself ordered the dinner, and they had finished when a visitor in the shape of Mr. Marcus Stepney came in.
Cole-Mortimer, who had accompanied her in her stroll, purred the purr of the pleased patron whose protégée has been thankful for favours received. Dinner was a gay meal, for Jean was in her brightest mood.
She was seeing a new world, a world the like of which had never been revealed to her, and though she could have slept, and her head did nod in the car, she roused herself to talk it all over again with the sympathetic Jean. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer retired early. Mr.
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