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Updated: June 13, 2025
Lord Porthoning seemed almost on the point of collapse. His eyes never once left the brooch which I was holding. "I didn't take it!" he gasped. "I swear I didn't take it!" I was anxious now to finish the affair. "Lord Porthoning," I said, "I will take your word. You say you never took the brooch.
Considering that I was enjoying a few minutes' respite in my task of helping Eve receive our wedding guests, the statement, though crude, was obvious enough. "Glad to see you, Lord Porthoning!" I said, lying miserably. "Do you know my father-in-law, Mr. Bundercombe?" Mr. Bundercombe extended his ready hand, which my connection, however, appeared not to see. "Yes, yes!" he admitted.
If that's the motor waiting for the young people it'll have to get out of the way. Lord Porthoning's car at once, young fellow! Hello, Paul!" he added. "Come to see me off, eh?" "Could I have just one word with you, Lord Porthoning?" I begged, as casually as possible. "Be quick, then! If I haven't wished you happiness it's because I can't see what chance you have of getting it.
"Things are in train, Paul," he announced cheerfully. "Now all I want from you is just the smallest amount of help in this little affair." I looked at him blankly. I had forgotten all about Lord Porthoning. "It's a very small share indeed," Mr. Bundercombe continued pleadingly; "but such as it is it's up to you to take it on at this moment. There the little insect goes into the cloakroom.
"Lord Porthoning," I said, "there is no necessity for such vigorous denials. The matter is easily arranged. You had better permit me to examine the pocket in question." "I'll see you and your common bully of a father-in-law in hell before I allow either of you to touch me or my clothing!" my pleasant connection declared fiercely. "Get out of my way, both of you!
Any sympathy I might have felt for him, any feeling I may have had that my father-in-law's retributive scheme was of too drastic a nature, vanished before he had finished the first three sentences. Mr. Bundercombe, upon whom he heaped abuse of the most virulent character, remained unmoved. When at last Lord Porthoning paused for breath, I turned toward my father-in-law. "What does this mean?"
I exclaimed, horrified; it seemed to me that my father- in-law was carrying this affair too far. Lord Porthoning, from whom I had expected a torrent of fierce abuse, stood looking at us both with an expression no written words could portray. His cheeks were ashen. His hands, which were crossed upon the knob of his cane, were shaking. Mr. Bundercombe extended his right hand.
We left Lord Porthoning sitting there and went out into the hall, where Eve was already waiting. Mr. Bundercombe was a little unnerved, but he pulled himself together. "Word of honor, Paul!" he declared; "I never saw the old rat take a thing! I simply landed him with the brooch. It was not until he was going out that I caught a glimpse of those other things in his pocket."
Lord Porthoning had staggered to a chair and was sitting there with his face buried in his hands. He was a stricken man. I turned to my father-in-law. "This is too much of a good thing, sir," I whispered angrily. "The brooch was all right enough, so far as it went, and he deserved a lesson; but these other things " A look in Mr. Bundercombe's face suddenly froze the words upon my lips.
"Paul," he begged hysterically, "don't give me away! I give you my word of honor I give you my word as a Porthoning I can't help it! You know what they call the damned thing when women have it kleptomania, isn't it? I tell you I can't see these things without that same horrible, fascinating, cruel instinct! My hands are on them before I know it. But " he broke off.
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