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"I'm sure she didn't mean that to apply to me," Wrayson pleaded. "Ah! but she even mentioned your name," the Baroness declared. "I say to her, 'Not even Mr. Wrayson? and she answered, 'No! No! No!" "And you promised?" he asked. "Why, yes! What else could I do?" she replied. "I say to her, 'You are a very foolish girl, Louise. After you have gone you will be sorry. Mr.
"By Jove!" he said softly, "I'd forgotten all about it. Boys, you've got to help me out." "We're on," Mason declared. "What is it? a fight?" "It's a garden party my girls are giving to-morrow afternoon," the Colonel answered. "I promised to take some of you down. Come, who's going to help me out? Wrayson? Good! Heneage? Excellent! Mason? Good fellows, all of you!
The Colonel was in the act of helping himself to hors d'oeuvre. His fork remained suspended for a moment in the air. Then he set it down with trembling fingers. The cheery light had faded from his face. He seemed suddenly older. His voice sounded unnatural. "Heneage!" he repeated, sharply. "Stephen Heneage! What affair is it of his?" "None," Wrayson answered.
"By all means," she answered graciously, "if you don't mind rather an uncomfortable seat. We are staying in Battersea. It seems a long way out, but it is quiet, and Louise and I like it." "In Battersea?" Wrayson repeated vaguely. The Baroness looked over her shoulder. They were standing on the pavement, waiting for their electric brougham.
Wrayson hastened to meet him. "Herbert," he said, with an affectionate smile, "forgive me for being a little late. Baroness, I am delighted to see you and Louise." The Baroness held out both her hands, which the Colonel raised gallantly to his lips. Louise he greeted with a fatherly and unembarrassed smile. "I must apologize to all of you," he said, "but perhaps this will be my best excuse."
"This sentiment which interferes with justice is false sentiment." "Justice is altogether an arbitrary, a relative phrase," Wrayson declared. "I know no more about the case of Morris Barnes than you do.
"A friend of yours," he answered. "I have asked her to come round for a few minutes." "A friend of mine?" "The Baroness!" The colour burned once more in his cheeks. He looked down at his attire with dissatisfaction. "I didn't want to see her again just yet," he muttered. Wrayson smiled. "She won't look at your clothes," he remarked, "and I rather want her here." Barnes was suddenly suspicious.
He kept his word, but for a time only. He made inquiries, and he seems to have come to the conclusion that the money was on the other side. At any rate, he approached the advisers of my husband. He was in treaty with them for the letters when he when he met with his death!" Wrayson had a feeling that the heat was becoming intolerable. He dared not look at Louise.
"Yes!" she answered, dropping her voice a little, "in Frederic Mansions. By the bye, we are neighbours, I believe, are we not?" "Quite close ones," Wrayson answered. "I live in the next block of flats." The Baroness looked again over her shoulder. "Your friend, Mr. Heneage, is close behind," she whispered, "and we are living so quietly, Louise and I, that we do not care for callers.
I entered upon my married life without the least possibility of happiness. Needless to say, I never realized any! For the last four years my husband has been trying for a divorce! Very soon it is possible that he will succeed." Wrayson leaned a little towards her. "Is it permitted, Madame, to ask a question?" "Why not?" "You have fought against this divorce, you and your friends, so zealously.
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