The Haunted Pajamas Part 42

Miss Kirkland! I recalled now that that was the name of the girl from China. By Jove, _I_ preferred to think of her as the frump!

"For Miss Kirkland heard the gossip at Cambridge--seems she has friends there among the residents; and they were kind enough to tell her of these things of the year before as soon as they noticed how devoted Francis was to her. At least this is what my daughter suspects--Miss Kirkland is not the kind to talk, you know."

Oh, _wasn't_ she! By Jove, I wondered what he would think if he had heard our conversation in the hall! But it wasn't for _me_ to tell him he was warming a what's-its-name to his bosom, so I just mumbled a reply.

"Nevertheless," he shrugged, "it is easy to see that she can't stand the sight of Francis." He shook his head dismally. "Charming girl, Mr.

Lightnut--a rare and perfect type of the English beauty at her best."

Oh, _was_ she! Not if I knew anything about it, and I had seen three seasons in London. By Jove, I was so terribly shocked I could just feel it in my face!

He seemed surprised. "Don't you think so?" he insisted.

"Well, I rather _don't_, you know!" It just blurted out of itself. "Oh, I say--now, you're not really in earnest?" And I screwed my gla.s.s so hard in my embarra.s.sment, I hurt my eye--"You know she's a freak! Why, dash it--" I pulled up, for after all, she was a fellow guest.

He stared, jammed his hands deep in his pockets and bent toward me.

"Now, look here, my boy, _do_ you mean to say you don't think Miss Kirkland a beautiful and winning girl?"--I guess he did see I meant it, for he slowly emitted an expressive whistle--"Well, you _are_ hopeless then--utterly hopeless!" and dash it, he just groaned!

"But now, my dear young friend," he went on, and with a glance at the littered table, "I want you to go out and get some fresh air before the bloom of the morning is past--if you go out this way, you will avoid encountering those girls"--his hand gently but firmly urged me. "It has been just abominably selfish of me to have kept you stuffed in here; I know I have bored you to death with all this about the family black sheep--I feel that now I must let you escape."

"Oh, no--not at all!" I protested hastily and pulling back. Never would do to let him feel that way, you know! "Really, 'pon honor now, thing I want to do is just stay here and talk to you about Frances."

"Oh, _d.a.m.n_ Fran--h'm--I mean Francis will keep!" He caught himself hastily before the stare of my gla.s.s, fumbling with the papers to cover his confusion. Then he clapped me on the shoulder, pressing me again toward the door. "You just go ahead and do whatever you can with Francis, yourself--you are my only hope! Or wait, and I'll prepare the way for you to-night--that's it; that's best!"--and he went to nodding.

Then he halted my progress and eyed me intently. "There's another thing:"--his voice dropped--"I think it's just as well Jack shouldn't know of your intentions about Francis; he would never approve--oh, _never_!"

He pursed his lips to just a thin curve as he shook his head positively.

His eyes bored at me over his gla.s.ses. I moistened my lips.

"I know _he_ feels you have already concerned yourself enough about Francis," he said deliberately. "The other night at your rooms--er, _you_ know! Jack is so particular in those little things. Ah, there's a model for you!"

He looked upward and wagged his head as he laid his hand upon the door-k.n.o.b. By Jove, how I wished he would open it, for the room was getting devilish warm!

"And as for things I deplore in Francis--oh, no, never any of that with Jack!"--he stiffened proudly--"he may, as I have said, imbibe a little too much, now and then; but when it comes to _scandal_--well, I have yet to hear the slightest breath--"

A sharp knock cut in abruptly.

"Come in!" And he swung the door open.

CHAPTER XXVI

FLORA

In the doorway stood the butler, looking rather pale. With him was a woman--one of the angular sort, you know, and whom I judged to be the housekeeper.

_She_ wasn't pale! No, by Jove, she was fiery red, even to her hair; and red, too, the anvil sparks that were snapping from her eyes. She marched right in, followed by Wilkes, who carefully closed the door--then stood discreetly aloof. Pantingly, she faced the judge, who was staring at her in amazement.

"Why, Miss Warfield," he began, "what--"

"Judge Billings!" she exploded. And, by Jove, it was like the blast from a mighty bellows! "It's about Mr. Jack!"

The judge's face flushed apprehensively.

"Jack--about Jack?" he repeated. "Is he--er--worse?"

"_Worse?_" The bellows inflated sharply. "Worse is just it--it's the shock of finding out things I never even suspected!" She whirled upon the butler.

"_You_ tell him!" she snapped sharply.

Wilkes s.h.i.+vered as under a sudden cold what's-its-name. He looked at her protestingly, his eye cutting a suggestive hint of my presence.

"Oh, go on!"--the judge nodded to him with some impatience. "It's all right--Mr. Lightnut is like one of us. Out with it, whatever it is!"

"Yes, sir." Wilkes coughed acquiescence, but shot a glance, half-reproachful, half-apprehensive, at the housekeeper.

She straightened, bristlingly.

"_Are_ you going to tell him or not--and you a man?--or will you put it on me?" And she began to inflate again.

The poor devil took the plunge:

"The fact is, sir, Mr. Jack--h'm!"--he fidgeted through an instant's misery, then let it come: "It's about him and one of the maids, sir!"

"_Wh-a-a-t?_"

In the jaw-twisting roar, the judge all but lost his plate--his hand came up just in time to save it. As for Wilkes, his portly figure seemed to lift, balloon-like, from the floor for an instant, then settled back.

"It's Flora, sir," he uttered faintly.

"Flora?"

"Yes, sir." And Wilkes quailed before the judge's brows.

Miss Warfield sniffed.

The judge scowled at her. "Are you both crazy?" he demanded. "What is all this--what is it you have to tell? Say it all in a word--one or the other of you--and have done!" His jaw settled with a snap.

The housekeeper a.s.sumed an injured air. "Well, sir," she said with a toss, "it just means this: either I or Flora go at the end of this week--I give notice now!"

"All right," said the judge with a sort of bland ugliness, "then that's settled--_you_ go! That is, unless you can get right down to bra.s.s tacks this instant and say what you've got to say."

And, black as thunder, the old boy laid his hand upon the k.n.o.b. By Jove, it did me good to see her crinkle up!

"I'm sure I beg your pardon, Judge," she said, her voice modifying to a snuffling tw.a.n.g, "but this has so upset my nerves--Mr. Jack, of all men!" She fumbled for her handkerchief before she found it--Pugsley says they _always_ do! "Such talk, sir! I _never_--" With a kind of gurgle, she suddenly flopped into the nearest chair and lay there, wriggling like a jolly auto freshly cranked, and snorting like its horn.

The judge, with head down, glared at her through his gla.s.ses.