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The millionaire's table was placed in the very centre of the dining- room, and plates were laid for eight. At the last minute, Mr.
Blithers ordered the number increased to nine.
"My daughter may put in an appearance," he explained to Lady Simpson.
"I have left word at the hotel for her to come up if by any chance she happens to arrive on the evening train."
"Haven't you heard from her, Mr. Blithers?" inquired the austere lady, regarding the top of his head with an illy-directed lorgnon.
They were entering the long, low dining-room. Mr. Blithers resented the scrutiny: It was lofty and yet stooping. She seemed to be looking down upon him at right angles, due no doubt to her superior height and to the fact that she had taken his arm.
"We have," said he, "but not definitely. She is likely to pop in on us at any moment, and then again she's likely not to. My daughter is a very uncertain person, Lady Simpson. I never seem to be able to put my finger upon her."
"Have you ever tried putting the whole hand upon her?" inquired her ladys.h.i.+p, and Mr. Blithers stared straight ahead, incapable of replying.
He waited until they were seated at the table and then remarked: "I am sorry you got splashed, Lady Simpson. You'd think they might keep the approach to a place like this free of mud and water."
"Oh, I daresay the gown can be cleaned, Mr. Blithers," she said. "I am quite ready to discard it, in any event, so it really doesn't matter."
"My dear," said he to his wife, raising his voice so that diners at nearby tables could not help hearing what he said, "I forgot to tell you that we are expected to dine with the Prince at the Castle." Then he wondered if any one in the room understood English.
"When?" she inquired.
"Very shortly," said he, and she was puzzled for a moment by the stony glare he gave her.
Lord Simpson took this opportunity to mention that he had taken reservations for the return of himself and wife to Vienna on the next day but one.
"We shall catch the Orient Express on Friday and be in London by Monday," he said. "Our work here is completed. Everything is in s.h.i.+p- shape. Jenkins will remain, of course, to attend to the minor details, such as going over the securities and--"
"Don't you like that caviare?" asked Mr. Blithers with some asperity.
"It has a peculiar taste," said Lord Simpson.
"Best I've ever tasted," said Mr. Blithers, spreading a bun thickly.
Pericault's cousins were fingering the champagne gla.s.ses. "We've got sherry coming first," said he.
"Everything satisfactory, M'sieur Blithers?" inquired the _maitre d'hotel_ softly, ingratiatingly, into his left ear.
"Absolutely," said Mr. Blithers with precision. "You needn't hurry things. We've got the whole evening ahead of us."
Lady Simpson s.h.i.+vered slightly. The Pericault cousins brightened up.
There was still a chance that the "dowagers" would retire early from the scene of festivity.
"By the way," said Simpson, "how long do you purpose remaining in Edelweiss, Blithers?"
For the first time, the capitalist faltered. He was almost ready to admit that his enterprise had failed in one vital respect. The morning's experience in the Council Chamber had shaken his confidence considerably.
"I don't know, Simpson," said he. "It is possible that we may leave soon."
"Before the Prince's dinner?" inquired Lady Simpson, again regarding his bald spot through the lorg-non.
"Depends on what my daughter has to say when she gets here," said he almost gruffly. "If she wants to stay for a while, we will remain. I don't mind saying that I have a curious longing for Wall Street. I am at home there and--well, by George, I'm like a fish out of water here."
His wife looked up quickly, but did not speak.
"I am a business man, Lady Simpson, not a philanderer. I'd like to take this town by the neck and shake some real enterprise into it, but what can you do when everybody is willing to sit down and let tradition look after 'em? I've put a lot of money into Grosstock and I'd like to see the country prosper. Still I'm not worried over my investment. It is as good as gold."
"Perfectly safe," said Lord Simpson.
"Absolutely," said the secondary London lawyer.
Pericault's comment was in French and not intended to be brief, but as Mr. Blithers was no longer interested, the privilege of completing his remarks was not accorded him. He did say _Mon dieu_ under his breath, however, in the middle of his employer's next sentence.
"As I said before, everything depends on whether my daughter wants to remain. If she says she wants to stay, that settles the point so far as I am concerned. If she says she doesn't want to stay, we'll--well, that will settle it also. I say, waiter, can't you hurry the fish along?"
"Certainly, sir. I understood M'sieur to say that there was no hurry--"
"Well, pour the champagne anyway. I think we need it."
Two hours later, Mr. Blithers looked at his watch again. The party was quite gay: at least fifty percent disorderly.
"That train has been in for an hour," said the host. "I guess Maud didn't come. I left word for the hotel to call me up if she arrived-- I say, waiter, has there been a telephone message for me?"
"No, M'sieur. We have kept a boy near the telephone all evening, M'sieur. No message."
"I also told 'em to send up any telegram that might come," he informed his wife, who merely lifted her eyebrows. They had been lowered perceptibly in consequence of the ebullience of Pericault's cousins.
The vivacious young women were attracting a great deal of attention to their table. Smart diners in the immediate neighbourhood appeared to be a trifle shocked. Three dignified looking gentlemen, seated near the door, got up and left the room.
"We really must be going," said Mrs. Blithers nervously, who had been watching the three men for some time with something akin to dismay in her soul. She had the sickening notion that they were members of the Cabinet--lords of the realm.
"All right," said Mr. Blithers, "Call the cars up, waiter. Still raining?"
"Yes, M'sieur. At this season of the year--"
"Call the cars. Let's have your bill."
Pericault's cousins were reluctant to go. In fact, they protested shrilly that it was silly to break up such a successful party at such an unseemly hour.
"Never mind," whispered Pericault softly, and winked.
"I'll leave 'em in your care, Pericault," said Mr. Blithers grimly.
"They are _your_ cousins, you know."
"Trust me implicitly. Monsieur," said Pericault, bowing very deeply.
Then he said good-night to Mrs. Blithers and Lady Simpson. The secondary London lawyer did the same.
Out in the wide, brilliantly lighted foyer, a few late-stayers were waiting for their conveyances to be announced. As the four departing members of the Blithers party grouped themselves near the big doors, impatient to be off, a bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned boy came up and delivered a telegram to the host.
He was on the point of tearing open the envelope when his eyes fell upon two people who had just entered the hall from without, a man and woman clad in raincoats. At the same instant the former saw Mr.
Blithers. Clutching his companion's arm he directed her attention to the millionaire.