Miss Million's Maid Part 25

"But ever since I first saw you in Putney I knew the truth. You are the one girl in the world for me!"

"Oh, no! There must be such crowds of them," I a.s.sured him. "Really pretty ones; much nicer than me. I'm sure I'm not one bit as nice as you think me.... Oh, heavens----"

For here a wild jolt from the motor-'bus had nearly pitched me into his arms. The top of the 'bus is absolutely the worst place in the world to listen to a proposal, unless you're absolutely certain of accepting the young man. Even so it must have its drawbacks.

"I'm sure," I said, "that I should be bad-tempered, horrid to live with----"

"Miss Lovelace----"

"And here's the Cecil. I must get off here," I said with some relief.

"Good-night. No! Please don't get off with me. I'd so much rather you didn't."

"May I see you again, then? Soon?" he persisted, standing up on that horrible 'bus that rocked like a boat at anchor in a rough sea.

"To-morrow?"

"Yes--no, not to-morrow----"

"Yes, to-morrow. I have so much to say to you. I must call. I'll write----"

"Good-night!" I called back ruefully.

And feeling aghast and amused and a little elated all at once, Miss Million's maid, who had just had an offer of marriage from the manager of Miss Million's bank, entered Miss Million's hotel, and went upstairs to Miss Million's rooms to wait until her mistress came back from the Thousand and One.

When I had taken off my wet outdoor things and rea.s.sumed my cap and ap.r.o.n, I sat down on Miss Million's plump pink couch, stuffed one downy cus.h.i.+on into the curve of my back, another into the nape of my neck, put my slippered feet up on a _pouffe_, and prepared to wait up for her, dozing, perhaps....

CHAPTER XIX

WAITING FOR THE REVELLER

IT was a very deep doze into which I sank. I roused myself with a start as the little gilt clock on the mantel-piece chimed four.

I sprang up. Had Miss Million come in without waking me?

I tapped at the door of her bedroom. No reply.

I went softly in, switching on the lights. There was no one there. All was in the apple-pie order in which I had left her pretty, luxurious room.

She hadn't come in? At four o'clock? Wondering and troubled, I went back to the couch and dozed again.

It was five o'clock when next I woke. Dawn struggled through the c.h.i.n.ks of the blinds.

No Million.

I waited, and waited.

Six o'clock in the morning. I threw aside the curtains.... Bright daylight now. Still no Million!

Seven o'clock, and the cheery sounds of morning activity all around me.

But Million hadn't come in.

Out all night?

What could be the meaning of it?

From eight to nine-thirty this morning I have spent sitting at the telephone in my mistress's room; feverishly fluttering the leaves of the thick red telephone book, and calling up the numbers of people who I have imagined might know what has become of Miss Million, the heiress, and why she has not come home.

I turned up first of all her hostess at the Supper Club. "London's Love," she may be; but certainly not my love. It was she who asked Million to that horrible party.

"Give me 123 Playfair, please.... Is that Miss Vi Va.s.sity?... Can I speak to Miss Vi Va.s.sity, please? It is something urgent----"

A pert and c.o.c.kney voice squeaked into my ear that Miss Vi Va.s.sity wasn't at home. That n.o.body knew when she was coming back. That the time to expect her was the time when she was seen coming in!

Charming trait! But why did the comedienne with the bra.s.s-bright hair choose to pa.s.s on that characteristic to my mistress?

I tried another number. "Nought, nought, nought Gerrard, please. I want to speak to Mr. Burke."

A rich brogue floated back to me across the wires. "What's attached to the charmin' girlish voice that's delighting my ears?"

"This is Miss--Miss Million's maid."

"Go on, darlin'," said the voice.

I gasped.

"Is that Mr. Burke speaking?"

"Who should ut be? This is the great, the notorious Burke himself."

"I mean," I called flurriedly, "is that my Mr. Burke?"

"I'd ask to be called nothing better!" declared the voice. "Thry me!"

I raged, flus.h.i.+ng scarlet, and thanking heaven that those irrepressible blue Irish eyes did not see my angry confusion.

I called back: "This is important, Mr. Burke. I want to ask you about my mistress. Miss Million has not come back, and I want you to tell me if you know where she has gone."

"Is there anything I'd refuse a young lady? I'd tell you in one minute if I knew, me dear."

"You don't know?" anxiously. "Where did you last see her?"

"Isn't it my own black and bitter loss that I'll confide to ye now? Miss Million, d'ye say? Faith, I've never seen her at all!"

"Not last night----"