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Updated: June 20, 2025
The man was slightly taller than the woman, and the latter wore upon her white kid shoes a pair of old paste buckles. It was for those buckles that he had been searching. "Yes," he muttered in English beneath his breath. "That's she without a doubt!" He drew back to near where the pair had halted and were laughing together. The girl with the glittering buckles upon her shoes was Dorise Ranscomb.
"But he promised to go with us to the ball at Nice to-night!" "Well, Miss Ranscomb, all I can think is that something something very important must have detained him somewhere." Walter knew that his friend was suspected by the police, but dared not tell her the truth. Hugh's disappearance had caused him considerable anxiety because, for aught he knew, he might already be arrested.
Lady Ranscomb was Hugh's old friend, and he and Dorise having been thrown together a good deal ever since the girl returned from Versailles after finishing her education, it was hardly surprising that the pair should have fallen in love with each other. As they sat opposite each other that night, the young fellow gazed into her wonderful blue eyes, yet, alas! with a sinking heart.
Lady Ranscomb was very much mystified at Hugh's disappearance, though secretly she was very glad. She questioned Brock, but he, on his part, expressed himself very much puzzled. A week later, however, Walter returned to London, and on the following night Lady Ranscomb and her daughter took the train-de-luxe for Boulogne, and duly arrived home.
"I do wish you would tell me the motive of your extreme kindness towards us both," Dorise urged. "I can't make it out at all. I am bewildered." "Well so am I, Miss Ranscomb," replied the tall, elegant man who spoke with such refinement, and was so shrewd and alert. "There are certain facts facts of which I have no knowledge. The affair at the Villa Amette is still, to me, a most profound mystery."
The Sparrow reflected in silence for some moments. "To-day is Wednesday," he remarked slowly at last. "Miss Ranscomb is in London. That I happen to know. Well, go to the Bush Hotel, in Farnham, on Friday afternoon and have tea. She will probably motor there and take tea with you." "Will she?" cried Hugh eagerly. "Will you arrange it? You are, indeed, a good Samaritan!" The little old man smiled.
"I wish I could see your face," declared Dorise frankly. "And I might express a similar desire, Miss Ranscomb. But for the present it is best as it is. I have sought you here to tell you the truth in secret, and to urge you to remain calm and patient." "Is that a message from Hugh?" "No not exactly. It is a message from one who is his friend." "You are very mysterious," she declared.
Yet, after all, as he again met Dorise's calm, wide-open eyes, the grim truth arose in his mind, as it ever did, that Lady Ranscomb, even though she had been so kind to him, would never allow her only daughter to marry a man who was not rich.
I don't like the look of affairs at the present moment. Young Henfrey is head over ears in love with that girl Dorise Ranscomb, and " "Bah! It's only a flirtation, my dear Charles," laughed the woman. "When just a little pressure is put upon the boy, and a sly hint to Lady Ranscomb, then the affair will soon be off, and he'll fall into Louise's arms. She's really very fond of him."
"Then you also are tired of the place?" asked Hugh, as he strolled slowly at her side in a dark-blue suit and straw hat. They made a handsome pair, and were indeed well suited to each other. Lady Ranscomb liked Hugh, but she had no idea that the young people had fallen so violently in love with each other. "Yes," said the girl. "Mother promised to spend Easter in Florence.
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