Chapter VII
_The Whispering Gallery_
The long afternoon went by, but we had accomplished nothing more thanthe consumption of an unlimited amount of tobacco.
"Certainly not convincing evidence," said Warriner with a final shrug ofhis shoulders. "Still my yellow rose is worth preserving along with themoth cocoon," and he put the pathetic dead flower carefully away in hisempty cigarette case. For a minute or two the silence remained unbroken.
"I wonder if you would mind spending a few days here at the 'Hundred?'"I blurted out; suddenly I was aware that I had taken a strong liking toChalmers Warriner.
"I've no end of things on hand," he answered, smiling cordially, "butI'll see what I can do. Suppose I run into Calverton, look over my mail,and return here around ten o'clock."
"It would be a great kindness," I said heartily. We shook hands, and hejumped into his perfectly appointed cross-country car and drove away.Yes, I did like Chalmers Warriner very much, and he seemed to have ahead on him.
Doctor Marcy also left us. His patient had continued to improve, and ofcourse he had his other practice to look after.
It was a pleasanter dinner than that of the night before inasmuch asJohn Thaneford was at "Thane Court," while Miss Trevor pleaded aheadache and had tea and toast served in her room. But there was myCousin Betty Graeme to do the honors of my board--how strange it stillseemed to use the possessive pronoun!--with all possible grace anddignity. Also I had the pleasure of welcoming a new addition to thehousehold, a Mrs. Anthony, an old family friend and Betty's godmother toboot. Circumstances had prevented her attendance at the funeral, but shehad reached the "Hundred" at last, to Betty's infinite comfort andsatisfaction. Mrs. Anthony was a delightful old person, with the figureof a young girl and the flashing eyes and snowy bob curls of a Frenchmarquise. I did myself the honor of kissing the small hand extended tome, and was taken into favor at once.
Yes, we were an entirely congenial dinner party. We spoke of FrancisGraeme several times, and without the least embarrassment or restraint;quite as though he might return at any moment to resume his rightfulplace in the circle. And more and more I came to realize that I had losta great deal in not knowing him sooner and better. A good and gallantgentleman! who was I that I should presume to stand in his shoes. Evennow I am beginning to perceive that a great inheritance has its burdensas well as its privileges; I see that it is no small thing to becomeHildebrand of the "Hundred."
The ladies retired early, and a few minutes after ten Warriner redeemedhis promise by making a welcome appearance. I told him that I had somenecessary letters to write, and that I should not make company of him;he was to consider himself entirely at home. He nodded acquiescently andspent some twenty minutes in wandering about the library; then hesettled down with a book.
It really was imperative that I should acquaint certain people--myquasi-partner Anstruthers, the Mercers and others--with the great changethat had taken place in my life and fortunes; my affairs in town wouldhave to be wound up, and it might be a fortnight before I could get toPhiladelphia. My correspondence proved more lengthy than I hadanticipated, and it was long after midnight when I had sealed andstamped the last enclosure. Warriner threw down his book, and I crossedthe room and joined him. "By way of resting our eyes," I said, andthereupon I extinguished the only light in the room, an Argand-burneroil lamp. We exchanged half a dozen desultory sentences, and thenrelapsed into that intimate silence which is only possible between realfriends. For perhaps half an hour we sat quietly thinking and smoking;then----
"There is nothing I can say or do; understand?"
I recognized the rough, forbidding quality of John Thaneford's voice,and instantly I was all attention. Of course he must be speaking tosomebody; who could it be? Presently the answer came. But it was not inwords; all I could make out were sounds of weeping and smothered sobs,unmistakably feminine in character.
Now I should have explained that Warriner and I had been sitting closeto one of the side walls of the library; indeed our heads were almost inactual contact with the plaster. Thaneford and his companion wereundoubtedly in the great hall whose circular walls probably formed anatural whispering gallery. How the sounds could be transmitted throughthe straight connecting passage under the stairs, and then shunted uponthe rectangular walls of the library, was a problem in applied acousticsthat I did not attempt to solve. The conversation was being conductedunder the breath, as we say, but every word fell with perfectdistinctness upon my ears. Of course it was a private conversation, oneto which I had no right to listen. I did make a motion to pull away fromthe wall, possibly with the vague idea of uttering a warning admonitionto these indiscreet chatterers, but Warriner's ready hand pushed me backin my chair; he laid his finger upon my lips, and I had no option but toyield to his stronger will. This was war, war in which all is fair.
"You've made a mess of it, my girl," went on Thaneford, "and I can'tstop to help clear it up. That's flat."
"You mean that you won't keep your promise?" The words were low andthick with emotion; I could not seem to recognize the ownership of thevoice.
"No, I don't say that at all. But I'm up to my neck at 'Thane Court,'and I was counting upon the 'Hundred' to pull me out. Give me half achance and I'll do the square thing--by you and everybody."
"What more do you want of me?"
"Just keep your eyes and ears open. I saw Grimes to-day, and he thinksthere is a fair possibility of breaking the will--_non compos_, youknow. Why think of it! Francis Graeme never saw this Yankee Hildebrandbut once in his life, and then for a couple of hours only. It stands toreason that a man in his right senses doesn't hand over a fortune asthough it were nothing more than a Key West cigar. Grimes advises me tofight, and I'd like nothing better than to do it. But fighting costs alot of money," he concluded gloomily.
"You know that if I had it----"
"All I know is that you haven't got it," he interrupted coldly. "Forheaven's sake! don't let us get sentimental again."
There was a brief silence, and then came a badly suppressed yawn,coupled with a declaration that the speaker was dog-tired and ready tofall asleep standing up. We could hear retreating footsteps, and theoccasional creaking of a loose board in the tread of the staircase; thenall was quiet again.
"Eunice Trevor, of course," announced Warriner meditatively.
"I should never have known her voice," I protested.
"Exactly so. And for the very sufficient reason that she is accustomedto riding under double-wraps, as the hunting men say. A cold,calculating, iceberg sort of creature--that's the way you've thought ofher."
"Dare say you're right."
"But deep in the heart of the iceberg there burns a flame, glowing andintense. Now and then it melts its way out, and for a few minutes thereare gorgeous fireworks. That was the young woman's natural voice, andshe was improving the infrequent opportunity of using it by lettingherself go."
"What do you think----" I began.
"I don't think at all," he broke in. "At least for to-night. In themorning my brain may begin to function again, but it refuses to besqueezed any further at present."
"They've had their five minutes grace," remarked Warriner, after anotherbrief pause, "and I'm off to bed. Good night." Warriner seemed to meltaway and become part of the surrounding darkness; after a minute or twoI followed, and reached my room without further incident.
Again my night's rest was a troubled one.