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Updated: May 1, 2025
"I'm afraid you think me very troublesome." The voice came again, delicately low and conciliatory. For a brief second Loder wondered uncertainly how long or how well Chilcote knew Lady Astrupp; then he dismissed the question. Chilcote had never mentioned her until to-night, and then casually as Lady Bramfell's sister. What a coward he was becoming in throwing the dice with Fate!
She wore a lace-colored gown that harmonized with the room and with the delicacy of her skin. "Now sit down and rest or walk about the room. I sha'n't mind which." She nestled into the couch and picked up the crystal ball. "What is the toy for?" Chilcote looked at her from the mantel-piece, against which he was resting. He had never defined the precise attraction that Lillian Astrupp held for him.
There was a riddle in the very atmosphere of the place and he abominated riddles. But Lady Astrupp was absorbed in her own concerns. Again she changed her position; and to Loder, listening attentively, it seemed that she leaned forward and examined his hands afresh. The sensation was so acute that he withdrew them involuntarily.
The door had opened, and the servant who had admitted Loder stood in the opening. "Dinner is served!" he announced, in his deferential voice. And Loder dined with Lillian Astrupp. We live in an age when society expects, even exacts, much. He dined, not through bravado and not through cowardice, but because it seemed the obvious, the only thing to do.
"I went to the theatre with Lady Astrupp ostensibly to find out how the land lay in her direction really to heighten my self-esteem. But there Fate or the power we like to call by that name was lying in wait for me, ready to claim the first interest in the portion of life I had dared to borrow." He said this slowly, as if measuring each word.
Along the corridor, agreeably conscious of the hum of admiration she aroused, came Lillian Astrupp, surrounded by a little court. Her delicate face was lit up; her eyes shone under the faint gleam of her hair; her gown of gold embroidery swept round her gracefully. She was radiant and triumphant, but she was also excited.
Lillian Astrupp, with her unattested evidence and her ephemeral interest, gave him no real uneasiness; but Chilcote and Chilcote's possible summons were matters of graver consideration; and there were times when they loomed very dark and sinister: What if at the very moment of fulfilment ? But invariably he snapped the thread of the supposition and turned with fiercer ardor to his work of preparation.
Chilcote turned round. "I particularly said you were not to be disturbed," he began. "Have I merited displeasure?" He spoke fast, with the uneasy tone that so often underran his words. Lady Astrupp took his hand with a confiding gesture and smiled. "Never displeasure," she said, lingeringly, and again she smiled. The smile might have struck a close observer as faintly, artificial.
With that strange sensation of having lived through the scene before, Loder left the cab and walked up the steps. Instantly he pressed the bell the door was opened by Lillian's discreet, deferential man-servant. "Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked. The man looked thoughtful. "Her ladyship lunched at home, sir " he began, cautiously. But Loder interrupted him.
Like the kitten, she was charming and graceful and easily amused; it was possible that, also like the kitten, she could scratch and be spiteful on occasion, but that did not weigh with him. He sometimes expressed a vague envy of the late Lord Astrupp; but, even had circumstances permitted, it is doubtful whether he would have chosen to be his successor.
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