The Vagrant Duke - LightNovelsOnl.com
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McGuire had risen unsteadily and was peering out into the darkness through the window opposite him, his face pallid, his lips drawn into a thin line. Peggy ran to him and caught him by the arm.
"What is it, Pop? Are you sick?"
"N-no matter. Just a bit upset. If you don't mind, daughter, I think I'll be going up."
"Can I do anything?"
"No. Stay here and enjoy yourselves. Just tell Stryker, will you, Nichols, and then come up to my room."
Peggy was regarding him anxiously as he made his way to the door and intercepted Peter as he went to look for the valet.
"What is it, Mr. Nichols?" she asked. "He may be sick, but it seems to me----" she paused, and then, "Did you see his eyes as he looked out of the window?"
"Indigestion," said Peter coolly.
"You'll see after him, won't you? And if he wants me, just call over."
"I'm sure he won't want you. A few home remedies----"
And Peter went through the door. Stryker had appeared mysteriously from somewhere and had already preceded his master up the stair. When Peter reached the landing, McGuire was standing alone in the dark, leaning against the wall, his gaze on the lighted bedroom which, the valet was carefully examining.
"What is it, sir?" asked Peter coolly. "You thought you saw something?"
"Yes--out there--on the side portico----"
"You must be mistaken--unless it was one of the watchmen----"
"No, no. I saw----"
"What, sir?"
"No matter. Do you think Peggy noticed?"
"Just that you didn't seem quite yourself----"
"But not that I seemed--er----"
"Alarmed? I said you weren't well."
Peter took the frightened man's arm and helped him into his room.
"I'm not, Nichols," he groaned. "I'm not myself."
"I wouldn't worry, sir. I'd say it was physically impossible for any one to approach the house without permission. But I'll go down and have another look around."
"Do, Nichols. But come back up here. I'll want to talk to you."
So Peter went down. And, evading inquiries in the hallway, made his way out through the hall and pantry. Here a surprise awaited him, for as he opened the door there was a skurry of light footsteps and in a moment he was in the pantry face to face with Beth Cameron, who seemed much dismayed at being discovered.
"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked in amazement.
She glanced at his white s.h.i.+rt front and then laughed.
"I came to help Aunt Tillie dish up."
"You!" He didn't know why he should have been so amazed at finding her occupying a menial position in this household. She didn't seem to belong to the back stairs! And yet there she was in a plain blue gingham dress which made her seem much taller, and a large ap.r.o.n, her tawny hair casting agreeable shadows around her blue eyes, which he noticed seemed much darker by night than by day.
She noticed the inflection of his voice and laughed.
"Why not? I thought Aunt Tillie would need me--and besides I wanted to peek a little."
"Ah, I see. You wanted to see Miss Peggy's new frock through the keyhole?"
"Yes--and the other one. Aren't they pretty?"
"I suppose so."
"I listened, too. I couldn't help it."
"Eavesdropping!"
She nodded. "Oh, Mr. Nichols, but you do play the piano beautifully!"
"But not like an angel in Heaven," said Peter with a smile.
"Almost--if angels play. You make me forget----" she paused.
"What----?"
"That's there's anything in the world except beauty."
In the drawing-room Freddy, having found himself, had swept into a song of the cabarets, to which there was a "close harmony" chorus.
"There's that----," he muttered, jerking a thumb in the direction from which he had come.
But she shook her head. "No," she said. "That's different."
"How--different?"
"Wrong--false--un--unworthy----"
As she groped for and found the word he stared at her in astonishment.
And in her eyes back of the joy that seemed to be always dancing in them he saw the shadows of a sober thought.
"But don't you like dance music?" he asked.
"Yes, I do, but it's only for the feet. Your music is for--for _here_."
And with a quick graceful gesture she clasped her hands upon her breast.