The Mischief-Maker Part 36

"My little friend here," Lady Anne went on, "hasn't got over it all yet. She doesn't understand the sheer barbarity of being a duke's daughter. The worst of it is she'll never have an opportunity of trying it for herself. Heaven save the others! Julien, I hope we are going to have some champagne. Mother never liked me to drink champagne at a restaurant. You see," she explained, "we weren't rich enough to be in really the smart set, or else I should have been allowed to do any mortal thing, and if you aren't in the very smart set, it is best to turn up your nose at them and to ape propriety. That's what we did. It suited father because it was cheap, and mother because she said it went with my style."

"Champagne, by all means," Julien agreed. "I ordered it some time ago.

And here comes the lobster."

"Julien, tell him to give me some wine," Lady Anne begged. "I am thirsty."

Julien gave the order to the _sommelier_. She raised the gla.s.s to her lips and looked at him.

"To our new selves," she exclaimed, laughing, "and to the broken bonds!"

Julien raised his gla.s.s at once.

"To our new selves!" he echoed.

CHAPTER III

WORK FOR JULIEN

The new Anne had not forgotten her natural stubbornness. At half-past twelve she rose from the supper table and declined absolutely to allow Julien to escort her home.

"My dear Julien," she declared, "the thing is ridiculous. We have finished with all that. I am a Bohemian. I expect to walk about these streets when and where and at what hour I choose. You have business with Mr. Kendricks and I am glad of it. You certainly shall not waste your time gallivanting around with me. Janette and I together could defy any sort of danger."

"But, my dear Anne," Julien protested, "you cannot make these changes so suddenly. To drive you home would take, at the most, half an hour."

"I shall enjoy the drive immensely," Lady Anne answered coolly, "but we shall take it alone. Don't be foolish, Julien. Come and find us a little carriage and say good night nicely."

He was forced to obey. He found a carriage and helped her in. She even stopped him when he would have paid for it.

"For the present," she said, "I prefer to arrange these matters for myself. Thanks ever so much for the supper," she added, "and come and see me in a day or two, won't you?"

She gave him her hand and smiled her farewells at him. The lamplight flashed upon her as she leaned forward to say good-bye, and Julien for the first time realized that her hair was a beautiful shade of brown, and that there was a quiet but very effective beauty about her face which he had never appreciated. She waved her hand and laughed at him in frank good-fellows.h.i.+p which he somehow felt vaguely annoying. The carriage rolled away and he went back to Kendricks.

"My friend," the latter exclaimed, "pay your bill and let us depart! I am in no humor for the cafes to-night. Let us go to your rooms and sit quietly, or drive--whichever you choose."

"You have news?" Julien remarked.

"I have news and a proposition for you," Kendricks replied. "I am not sure that we do ourselves much good by being seen about Paris together just now. I am not sure, even, whether it is safe."

Julien stared at him.

"You are making fun of me!"

"Not I," Kendricks a.s.sured him. "We are both being drawn into a queer little cycle of events, events which perhaps we may influence. When we get back to your rooms, I will tell you about it. Until then, not a word."

They drove down the hill, talking of Lady Anne.

"Somehow," Kendricks remarked, "she doesn't fit in, in the least, with your description of her. I imagined a cold, rather stupid young woman, of very moderate intelligence, and certainly no sense of humor. Do you know that your Lady Anne is really a very charming person?"

"She puzzles me a little," Julien confessed. "Something has changed her."

Kendricks nodded.

"Whatever has done it has done a good thing. She gave you your conge quite calmly, didn't she?"

"Absolutely," Julien admitted. "She brushed me away as though I had been a misbehaving fly."

"After all," Kendricks said, "you were of the same kidney--a prig of the first water, you know, Julien. I am never tired of telling you so, am I? Never mind, it's good for you. Have you seen Herr Freudenberg this week?"

Julien shook his head.

"Not since we were all at the Rat Mort together nearly a month ago. Did I tell you that he made me an offer then?"

"No, you told me nothing about it," Kendricks replied, leaning forward with interest. "What sort of an offer? Go on, tell me about it?"

"He wanted me," Julien continued, "to undertake the command of an expedition to some place which he did not specify, to discover whether a German who was living there was being held a prisoner--"

"Oh, la, la!" Kendricks interrupted. "Tell me what your reply was?"

"I told him that I must consult you first. As a matter of fact, I never thought seriously about it at all. The whole affair seemed to me so vague, and it didn't attract me in the least. I don't know whether you can understand what I mean, but to me it appeared to be an entirely artificial suggestion. If such a thing had been reasonable at all, I should have said that it was an offer invented on the spur of the moment by Herr Freudenberg, to get me out of Paris."

"Really, Julien," declared Kendricks, "I am beginning to have hopes of you. There are times when you are almost bright."

"What are you here for?" Julien asked. "Is there anything wrong in London?"

"Anything wrong!" Kendricks growled. "You and your foolish letters, Julien! You left the way open for that little bounder Carraby and he'll do for us. Lord, how they love him in Berlin!"

"They are not exactly appreciating him over here, are they?" Julien remarked. "I don't understand the tone of the Press at all. There's something at the back of it all."

"There is," Kendricks agreed grimly. "Sit tight, wait till we are in your rooms. I'll tell you some news."

"We are there now," Julien replied, as the little carriage pulled up.

"Follow me, Kendricks, and take care of the stairs. I hope you like the smell of new bread? You see, the ground floor is occupied by a confectioner's shop. It keeps me hungry half the time."

"Delicious!" Kendricks murmured. "Are these your rooms?"

Julien nodded and turned on the electric light.

"Not palatial, as you see, but comfortable and, I flatter myself, typically French. Don't you love the red plush and the gilt mirror? Of course, one doesn't sit upon the chairs or look into the mirror, but they at least remind you of the country you're in."

Kendricks threw open the window. The hum of the city came floating into the room. They drew up easy-chairs.

"Whiskey and soda at your side," Julien pointed out. "You can smoke your filthy pipe to your heart's content. I won't even insult you by offering you a cigar. Now go ahead."

Kendricks lit his pipe and smoked solemnly.