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Updated: May 21, 2025
Medcroft glanced significantly at the transom and the half-closed bathroom door. With a laugh, Brock led him into the bathroom and out, and then closed the transom. "You're darned mysterious," he said, pointing to a chair near the window. Medcroft drew another close up and seated himself.
Have a cigaret." "By Jove, Brock, you're a brick," cried Medcroft, shaking the other's hand vigorously. At the same time his face expressed considerable uncertainty and no little doubt as to the further welfare of his as yet partially divulged proposition. "It's easy to be a brick, my boy, if it involves no more than the changing of a single letter in one's name.
A moment later he was pointing out the couple to his companions, all three peering at them with excited eyes. Brock's face went red under the rude stare; he was on the point of resenting it when the Englishman stepped forward. The American arose at once. "I've been looking for you, Mr. Medcroft if that is your name," said the stranger, halting in front of the table.
Like a dutiful husband, he always included his wife in the expeditions. "You are not only a most exemplary wife, Mrs. Medcroft," he declared, "but an unusually agreeable chaperon. I don't know how Constance and I could get on without you." But the day of severest trial was now at hand. The Rodneys were arriving on the fifth day from Berlin.
There was a great deal of pow-wowing and chatter, charges and refutations, excuses and explanations. Mr. Medcroft finally waved every one aside in the most dégagé manner imaginable. "Don't crowd me! Hang it all, I'm not a curiosity. There isn't anything to go crazy about. My friend, Mr. Brock, has just done me a trifling favour. That's all.
It's odd that Medcroft didn't tell me about you. Would you mind advancing a bit of general information about yourself and, I may say, about my family in general? It may come handy." "I feel as though I had known you for years," she said, frankly returning his gaze. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. "I'm merely Edith's sister.
For the next two or three days the newspapers printed caustic contributions from fellow architects and builders, in each of which the luckless Medcroft was taken to task for advocating an impractical and fatuous New York hobby in the way of construction, something that staid old London would not even tolerate or discuss.
Brock was under the spell; he was fascinated; he had to look to himself carefully in order to keep his wits in the prescribed channel. His self-esteem received a severe shock at the opera. Mrs. Medcroft, with malice aforethought, insisted that Ulstervelt should take her husband's seat. As the box held but six persons, the unfortunate Brock was compelled to shift more or less for himself.
"This is a private " began the manager, stepping forward. A flying figure sped past him; a delighted little shriek rang in his ears. He saw Edith Medcroft hurl herself into the arms of her own husband. At the same moment Brock bounded across the room and pounced eagerly upon the welcome intruder. "Good Gawd!" gasped Odell-Carney. "Wot's all this?"
At first he was irritatingly remiss in answering to the name of Medcroft; but, to justify the stupidity, it is only necessary to say that he had fallen into a condition which scarcely permitted him to know his own name, much less that of another. He was under the spell! Wherefore it did not matter at all what name he went by: he would have answered as readily to one as the other.
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