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No, Tony didn't. But she might send him a note by messenger to the s.h.i.+p, with all the latest news.
She would do that without fail, Mary promised; and so at last hung up the receiver with a sigh which would have frightened Severance had it reached him on the wire. Mums was not as calm about the future as she had tried to make her "dear boy" think!
Though she had been lying down, she crawled off the bed again, and put on a smart tea-gown before it was time for her daughter to come home.
She had little doubt that the Beast would be with Marise; and her own attempt at "frightfulness" having failed against his armour of brutality, she intended to try diplomacy in the next encounter.
Already she had learned that the suite engaged by Major Garth for himself and his bride did not adjoin the one occupied by herself and Marise since their arrival in New York. It appeared that the manager had offered a suite of two rooms and a bath next to the Sorel suite, but Major Garth had refused this as being too small. Nothing "large enough for his requirements" had been available near Mrs. Sorel; but fortunately it was on the same floor.
This, the manager seemed to think, ought to content the lady; and indeed, she was obliged to pretend satisfaction. She would like to see the suite, she had said; but to her dismay the privilege was refused with regret. Major Garth, the manager explained, had given a "rush order" for some special decorations to surprise Mrs. Garth; and he had requested that no one--_no one at all_ except the decorators--should be allowed to enter until the bridal pair arrived.
"But," Mrs. Sorel had argued, "he couldn't have meant _me_. Besides, if no one goes in, my daughter won't have any of her toilet things ready.
There will be a scramble and confusion when she comes home tired from the theatre."
The manager, however, was reluctantly firm. He "mustn't tell tales out of school," but he thought he _might_ just relieve Mrs. Sorel's fears by saying that there would be no trouble at all of that sort. The Major's "surprise" would--he hoped--be as pleasing to her as to the bride. And whatever had to be done in addition could be accomplished in a few minutes by Mrs. Garth's maid.
Naturally, Mrs. Sorel was on tenterhooks after this information, which she had obtained by telephone, lying on her bed, soon after Marise and Celine left for the theatre. It determined her to be prepared for battle, no matter how ill she might feel: for it was impossible that Marise should ever cross the threshold of that mysteriously decorated suite. Therefore the neat coiffure of the aching head, and the dignified tea-gown of satin and jet.
On the few occasions when Mums had been unable to go with Marise to the theatre, the girl had either returned early, or telephoned that she would be late in reaching home. Mrs. Sorel expected her to start for the hotel to-night the instant she was dressed and had her make-up off. She would doubtless be thankful to escape questions, and get back to her mother--which really meant, ridding herself of Garth.
But time crept on. Marise was half an hour late: then three-quarters.
What could have happened? Had that monster kidnapped the poor child?
At the thought, Mums experienced the sensation of cold water slowly trickling through her spine. "What shall I do?" she wondered. And her mind turned to the thought--the terrible thought--of applying to the police. If she took this extreme step, what would be the result? Could a man be arrested for abducting his own wife?
As she writhed and sighed helplessly on a sofa in sight of the mantel clock, Celine's familiar tap sounded at the door, and the Frenchwoman came in. Mrs. Sorel's anguished eyes saw that she looked pale and excited. Her own heart seemed to rise and shrug itself in her breast, then collapse sickeningly upon other organs.
"For Heaven's sake, where is Mademoiselle?" she panted.
"Ah, Madame," sighed Celine, "we must speak of Mademoiselle no more."
"Why--why?" broke in the distracted mother.
"But, because she is now indeed 'Madame'! She is with--her _husband_."
"Where?" gasped Mrs. Sorel.
"In their suite. A suite of great magnificence."
The unhappy Mums staggered to her feet, among falling cus.h.i.+ons.
"Good gracious!" she groaned. "He has dragged her there----"
"No, no, Madame, it is not so bad as that," Celine soothed her. "_Madame la Jeune Mariee_ appeared to go with Monsieur of her own will. She showed no fear. She was only a little quiet--a little strange. It must have been arranged at the theatre, what was to happen, for I was with them in a car--but yes, a car, no taxi!--which Monsieur had ordered to wait at the stage door. I sat, not with the chauffeur, but inside on one of the little fold-up seats. The two did not speak at all, Madame, not once, till we had arrived here, at the hotel. Then Mademoiselle--I mean Madame Garth--said, 'I should like Celine to come with me.' 'Very well, let her come,' Monsieur answered. That was all. I went with them.
Monsieur asked for his key. It was given him. We were taken up in the _ascenseur_ to this floor. But instead of turning to the right, we turned left. Monsieur unlocked the door, switched on lights, and stood aside for Madame his wife to pa.s.s. Even me, he let go in before him.
Then he followed and shut the door."
"What then?" breathed Mrs. Sorel.
"Mon Dieu, Madame, the suite was of a magnificence! It must be the best in the house. The suite in which they put royalties who come visiting from Europe. And not only that, the whole place has been made a garden of flowers--wonderful flowers. This Monsieur le Majeur must be, after all, though he does not look it, a millionaire!"
"He is far from being a millionaire," sneered Mums. "He hasn't a sou, so far as I've heard. He'll probably charge all this wild extravagance to us. He's capable of it--capable of _anything_! But go on."
"Well, Madame, the suite has an entrance hall of its own, not a tiny vestibule like this one. The hall has many pots of gorgeous azaleas, of colours like a sunrise in paradise. _Madame la Jeune Mariee_ walked into the salon. The husband went also. But, me, I stood outside waiting. I could see into the room, however. I chose my place for that purpose, to see! A lovely salon of pearl grey and soft rose. And the flowers there were all roses, different shades of pink. There were many, some growing in pots, very tall; some cut ones in crystal vases and jars: and on a table, a marvellous bowl, illuminated, with flowers floating on the surface of bright water. Also, Madame, there were presents, jewels in cases. If these, as Madame says, are to be charged to her, Mon Dieu, it will be a disaster!"
"What were the presents?" The question asked itself, out of the turmoil that was Mums' mind. But behind the turmoil a voice seemed crying, "Why do you stop here talking of trifles, instead of rus.h.i.+ng to save your wretched child?"
But Celine was replying. After all, what use to go, since the door of the suite would be closed, and one could not shriek and beat upon the panels for the whole world to hear!
"There was a large case with a double row of pearls. It must be, I think, not a string, but a rope. There was also a lovely thing for the hair, a wreath of laurel leaves made of green stones, doubtless emeralds. And there was a pendant, a star of diamonds with a great cabochon sapphire--Mademoiselle's beloved jewel!--in the centre. There may have been other things, but those were all I remarked. I saw them from the doorway. Yet, if Madame will believe me, _la Jeune Mariee_ did not regard them. Neither did Monsieur draw her attention to his gifts--no, not by gesture nor word."
"She must have said _something_!" cried Mary.
"She murmured that the flowers were charming. You would have thought she had not seen the jewels, though she must have seen them, Madame, if I saw from my distance. Monsieur asked if she would like to view the rest of the suite. She answered, 'Oh yes, please!' Then, out into the entrance hall they came. Monsieur threw open the door of a room next the salon, and as he did so put on the lights. But--with that, he stepped back. My young lady called me, 'Celine!' I ran to her, and he stopped there in the hall. Ah, another surprise! Not the beauty of this great bedroom. That one would expect in such a suite--a _white_ room, Madame, and white flowers, roses not too heavily perfumed! But the surprise was on the toilet-table. Brushes, bottles, everything, oh, so delicious a set!--in gold. A queen could have no better. On the bed, Madame, lay a _robe de chambre_ more beautiful than any that Mademoiselle has ever possessed--which Madame knows, is to say much!--and on the floor--like blossoms fallen on the white fur rug--lay a little pair of _mules_, made of gold embroidery on cloth of silver, and having buckles of old paste fit for the slippers of Cinderella! When she had looked round for a few moments, quite silent, Madame, the bride turned to me. 'Now you have seen what is here, Celine,' she said, 'you can go to my room and bring me just the things you think I shall need.'"
"Did she give you the key of the suite?" Mary asked sharply.
"But no, Madame, she did not give me a key. I shall have to knock."
"Very well, run and put a few things together," Mary directed. "It doesn't much matter what, as Mademois--my daughter--will not, I think, stay long in the suite. When you are ready, come back here to me. I will go down with you. When the door is opened, I shall walk in before it can be shut. But mind, you will speak or hint to _no_ one of what I do, or what I say to you--or what you may see or overhear."
"Madame may depend upon me," Celine a.s.sured her. "Ah, that poor Milord Severance! _Mais, c'est le Destin!_"
CHAPTER XXI
KEEPING UP APPEARANCES!
"You said at the theatre, if I trusted you enough to come here with you," Marise began as Celine left, "you would tell me a plan you thought I'd approve. Well, I did trust you! I _had_ to, just as I had to this afternoon when you said the same thing in the taxi. Here I am. But so far, I don't see anything that rea.s.sures me much. All the flowers and jewel-cases and gold things are beautiful bribes. The only trouble about them is, that _I_ don't take bribes--even if you can afford to offer them!"
"I understand that emphasis," said Garth. "_You_ don't take bribes. I do. And you think, in making this collection I've 'gambled in futures.'"
Marise was silent.
"That's what you do think, isn't it?" he insisted.
"Something of the sort may have flitted through my head."
"Well, if I'm not above bribery and corruption--and the rest of it--that's on my own conscience. In other words, it's my own business.
Your business is--to keep up appearances, and at the same time keep up the proprieties."
"That's one way of expressing it!"
"Yes, again my beastly vulgar way! But I won't stop to apologise because I know you're in a hurry to settle this question between us once for all. Because, when it is settled, it _will_ be once for all, so far as I'm concerned."
"I see. Go on, please!"