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Updated: May 1, 2025
From the slowly moving, brilliantly dressed throng of people some one called him by his name; and turning he saw Lillian Astrupp. She was stepping from the door of a jeweller's, and as he turned she paused, holding out her hand. "The very person I would have wished to see!" she exclaimed. "Where have you been these hundred years?
"What am I expected to do?" he asked. Blessington looked up, surprised. "Why, I thought, sir " he began. Then he instantly altered his tone: "Oh, just enter into the spirit of the thing. Lady Astrupp won't put much strain on your credulity, but she'll make a big call on your solemnity." He laughed. He had an infectious laugh, and Loder responded to it. "But what am I to do?" he persisted.
"Astrupp had caught a fever in Florence, and I was rushing away for fear of the infection, when our stupid little train ran off the rails near Pistoria and smashed itself up. Fortunately we were within half a mile of a village, so we weren't quite bereft.
When Lillian Astrupp had given her dictum, when the music of the orchestra had ceased and the curtain risen on the second act of the play, nothing but a sense of stupefaction had filled his mind.
You know Blanche Bramfell Viscountess Bramfell, sister to Lillian Astrupp." His words conveyed nothing to Loder, but he did not consider that. All explanations were irksome to him and he invariably chafed to be done with them. "And you've got to put in an appearance for party reasons?" Loder broke in. Chilcote showed relief. "Yes. Old Fraide makes rather a point of it so does Eve."
If Lady Astrupp had recognized Chilcote by the rings, and had been roused to curiosity, the incident would demand settlement sooner or later settlement in what proportion he could hazard no guess; if, on the other hand, her obvious change of manner had arisen from any other source he had a hazy idea that a woman's behavior could never be gauged by accepted theories then he had safeguarded Chilcote's interests and his own by his securing of Blessington's promise.
The facts of the case were simple. Chilcote had left an incriminating telegram on the bureau in the morning-room at Grosvenor Square; by an unlucky chance Lillian Astrupp had been shown up into that room, where she had remained alone until the moment that Eve, either by request or by accident, had found her there. The facts resolved themselves into one question.
If Lady Astrupp should ask you who was in her tent this past ten minutes, I want you " Again he stopped, looking at his companion's face. "Yes, sir?" "I want you to tell an immaterial lie for me." Blessington returned his glance; then he laughed a little uncomfortably. "But surely, sir " "She recognized me, you mean?" Loder's eyes were as keen as steel. Yes." "Then you're wrong. She didn't."
Once more he was living in the present the forceful, exhilarating present, and the knowledge braced him. Upon one point his mind was satisfied. Lillian Astrupp had found the telegram, and it remained to him to render her find valueless.
Drive to Cadogan Gardens No. 33." The distance to Cadogan Gardens was covered quickly. Chilcote had hardly realized that his destination was reached when the cab pulled up. Jumping out, he paid the fare and walked quickly to the hall-door of No. 33. "Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked, sharply, as the door swung back in answer to his knock. The servant drew back deferentially.
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