CHAPTER XIX
THE TIME AND THE PLACE
She halted at the portal of an old-fashioned house which had been turnedinto an apartment hotel--a great brownstone mansion set back from thestreet. A severely respectable porter in livery appeared and bowed toher, but when his apoplectic eyes encountered Seabury's his shaven jawdropped and a curious spasm appeared to affect his knees.
She did not notice it; she turned to Seabury and, looking him straightin the face, held out her hand.
"Good-night," she said. "Be chivalrous enough to find out who Iam--without sacrificing me.... You--you have not displeased me."
He took her hand, held it a moment, then released it.
"I live here," he said calmly.
A trifle disconcerted, she searched his face. "That is curious," shesaid uneasily.
"Oh, not very. I have bachelor apartments here; I've been away from townfor three months. Here is my pass-key," he added, laughing, and to thestrangely paralyzed porter he tossed his luggage with a nod and apleasant: "You didn't expect me for another month, William, did you?"
"That explains it," she said smiling, a tint of excitement in her prettycheeks. "I've been here only for a day or two."
They were entering now, side by side; he followed her into the elevator.The little red-haired boy, all over freckles and gilt buttons, whopresided within the cage, gaped in a sort of stupor when he saw Seabury.
"Well, Tommy," inquired that young gentleman, "what's the matter?"
"What floor?" stammered Tommy, gazing wildly from one to the other.
"The usual one, in my case," said Seabury, surprised.
"The usual one, in my case," said the girl, looking curiously at theagitated lad. The cage shot up to the third floor; they both rose, andhe handed her out. Before either could turn the elevator hurriedlydropped, leaving them standing there together. Then, to theconsternation of Seabury, the girl quietly rang at one of the only twoapartments on the floor, and the next instant a rather smart-lookingEnglish maid opened the door.
Seabury stared; he turned and examined the corridor; he saw the numberon the door of the elevator shaft; he saw the number over the door.
"There seems to be," he began slowly, "something alarming the matterwith me to-night. I suppose--I suppose it's approaching dementia, but doyou know that I have a delusion that this apartment is mine?"
"Yours!" faltered the girl, turning pale.
"Well--it was once--before I left town. Either that or incipient lunacyexplains my hallucination."
The maid stood at the door gazing at him in undisguised astonishment.Her pretty mistress looked at her, looked at Seabury, turned and cast anagitated glance along the corridor--just in time to catch a glimpse ofthe curly black whiskers and the white and ghastly face of theproprietor peering at them around the corner. Whiskers and pallorinstantly vanished. She looked at Seabury.
"Please come in a moment, Mr. Seabury," she said calmly. He followed herinto the familiar room decorated with his own furniture, and lined withhis own books, hung with his own pictures. At a gesture from her heseated himself in his own armchair; she sat limply in a chair facinghim.
"Are these your rooms?" she asked unsteadily.
"I thought so, once. Probably there's something the matter with me."
"You did not desire to rent them furnished during your absence?"
"Not that I know of."
"And you have returned a month before they expected you, and I--oh, thisis infamous!" she cried, clenching her white hands. "How dared thatwretched man rent this place to me? How dared he!"
A long and stunning silence fell upon them--participated in by theBritish maid.
Then Seabury began to laugh. He looked at the maid, he looked at herangry and very lovely young mistress, looked at the tables littered withtypewriters and stationery, he caught sight of his own dining-room withthe little table laid for two. His gayety disconcerted her--he rose,paced the room and returned.
"It seems my landlord has tried to turn a thrifty penny by leasing youmy rooms!" he said, soberly. "Is that it?"
She was close to tears, controlling her voice and keeping herself-possession with a visible effort. "I--I am treasurer and secretaryfor the new wing to--to St. Berold's Hospital," she managed to say."We--the women interested, needed an office--we employ severaltypewriters, and--oh, goodness! What on earth will your sister think!"
"My sister? Why, she's at Seal Harbor----"
"Your sister was there visiting my mother. I came on to town to see ourarchitects; I wired her to come. She--she was to dine with me hereto-night! Sherry was notified!"
"My sister?"
"Certainly. What on earth did she think when she found me installed inyour rooms? And that's bad enough, but I invited her to dine and go overthe hospital matters--she's one of the vice presidents--and then--thenyou tied our feet together and it's--what time is it?" she demanded ofher maid.
"It is midnight, mem," replied the maid in sepulchral tones.
"Is that man from Sherry's still there?"
"He is, mem."
Her mistress laid her charming head in her hands and covered heragreeable features with a handkerchief of delicate and rather valuablelace.
The silence at last was broken by Seabury addressing the maid: "Is thatdinner spoiled?"
"Quite, sir."
Her mistress looked up hastily: "Mr. Seabury, you are not going to----"
"Yes, I am; this is the time and the place!" And he rose with decisionand walked straight to the kitchen, where a stony-faced individual satamid the culinary ruins, a statue of despair.
"What I want you to do," said Seabury, "is to fix up a salad and some ofthe cold duck, and attend to the champagne. Meanwhile I think I'll godownstairs; I have an engagement to kill a man."
However, a moment later he thought better of it; _she_ was standing bythe mirror--his own mirror--touching her eyes with her lace handkerchiefand patting her hair with the prettiest, whitest hands.
"Kill him? Never: I'll canonize him!" muttered Seabury, enchanted.Behind him he heard the clink of glass and china, the pleasant sound ofice. She heard it, too, and turned.
"Of all the audacity!" she said in a low voice, looking at him under herlevel brows. But there was something in her eyes that gave himcourage--and in his that gave her courage.... Besides, they weredreadfully hungry.
* * * * *
"You refuse to tell me?"
"I do," she said. "If you have not wit enough to find out my namewithout betraying me to your sister you do not deserve to know myname--or me."
It was nearly two o'clock, they had risen, and the gay little flowerytable remained between them; the salad and duck were all gone. But thefroth purred in their frail glasses, breaking musically in thecandle-lit silence.
"Will you tell me your name before I go?"
"I will not." Her bright eyes and fair young face defied him.
"Very well; as soon as I learn it I shall be more generous--for I havesomething to tell you; and I'll do it, too!"
"Are you sure you will?" she asked, flushing up.
"Yes, I am sure."
"I may not care to hear what you have to say, Mr. Seabury."
They regarded one another intently, curiously. Presently her slenderhand fell as by accident on the stem of her wine-glass; he lifted hisglass: very, very slowly. She raised hers, looking at him over it.
"To--what I shall tell you--when I learn your name!" he said,deliberately.
Faint fire burned in her cheeks; her eyes fell, then were slowly raisedto his; in silence, still looking at one another, they drank the toast.
* * * * *
"Dammit!" I said, impatiently, "is that all?"
"Yes," he said, "that will be about all. I'm going home to bed."