Under Cover Part 26

When he brought the precious necklace back Denby calmly placed the pouch in his pocket. "Thanks, old man," he said casually. "Now the fun begins."

"Fun!" Monty snorted. "Do you remember the cla.s.sic remark of the frog who was pelted by small mischievous boys? 'This may be the h.e.l.l of a joke to you,' said the frog, 'but it's death to me.'"

"I've always been sorry for that frog," Denby commented.

"But, man alive, you are the frog," Monty cried.

"Oh, no," Denby returned, making a tie that had no likeness to a vast b.u.t.terfly.

"Your frog hadn't a ghost of a chance, and he knew it, while with me it's an even chance. One oughtn't to ask any more than that in these hard times."

He sauntered down the stairs cool and debonair to find Ethel Cartwright still looking listlessly across the green lawns.

"Those gentle chimes," he said, as the dinner-gong pealed out, "call the faithful to dinner. I wish it were in Paris, don't you?"

She pulled herself together and tried to smile as she had done before Taylor had dashed all her joy to the ground.

"Aren't you hungering for string-beans?" he asked, "and the hole in the table-cloth, and the gay old moon? But after all, what do they matter now? You're here, and I'm hungry." He offered her his arm. "Aren't you hungry, too?"

CHAPTER NINE

Very much to Denby's disappointment he found that he was not to take Ethel Cartwright in to dinner. Nora Rutledge fell to his lot, and although she was witty and sparkling, she shared none of those happy Parisian memories as did the girl his host had taken in.

Plainly Nora was piqued. "I thought from what Monty told me you were really interesting," she said.

"One must never believe anything Monty says," he observed. "It's only his air of innocence that makes people think him honest. His flirtations on board s.h.i.+p were nothing short of scandalous and yet look at him now."

And poor Monty, although to him had fallen the honor of taking in his hostess, was paying no sort of attention to her sallies.

Nora glanced at him and then looked up at Denby. "I'm really awfully fond of Monty, and I'm worried--if you'll believe it--because he seems upset. Monty," she called, "what's the matter with you, and what are you thinking about?"

"Frogs," he said promptly.

"We'll have some to-morrow," Michael observed amiably. "They induce in me a most remarkable thirst, so I keep off them on that account."

"He's thinking," Denby reminded her, "of the old song, 'A frog he would a-wooing go!' I've heard of you often enough, Miss Rutledge, from Monty."

"Well, I wish you'd started being confidential with the _hors d'uvres_," she said, "instead of waiting until dessert. If you had, by this time you'd probably have been really amusing."

She rose at Mrs. Harrington's signal and followed her from the room.

"What I can't see," observed she, "is why we didn't stay and have our cigarettes with the men."

"I always leave them together," Alice Harrington said with a laugh, "because that's the way to get the newest naughty stories. Michael always tells 'em to me later."

"Alice!" cried Nora with mock reproof.

"Oh, I like 'em," Alice declared, "when they're really funny, and so does everybody else. Besides, nowadays it's improper to be proper.

Cigarette, Ethel?"

Miss Cartwright shook her head. "You know I don't smoke," she returned.

Nora lighted a cigarette unskilfully. "That's so old-fas.h.i.+oned," she said, in her most sophisticated manner, "and I'd rather die than be that." She coughed as she drew in a fragrant breath of Egyptian tobacco.

"I do wish, though, that I really enjoyed smoking."

"What do you think of our new friend, Mr. Denby?" Alice asked of her.

"I like him in spite of the fact that he hardly noticed me. He couldn't take his eyes off Ethel."

"I saw that myself," Mrs. Harrington returned. "You know, Ethel, I meant him to take you in to dinner, but Nora insisted that she sit next to him. She's such a man-hunter!"

"You bet I am," the wise Nora admitted--"that's the only way you can get 'em."

Mrs. Harrington turned to Ethel Cartwright. "Didn't you and Mr. Denby have a tiny row? You hardly spoke to him through dinner."

"Didn't I?" the girl answered. "I've a bit of a headache."

"I'll bet they had a lovers' quarrel before dinner," Nora hazarded.

Alice Harrington arched her eyebrows in surprise. "A lovers' quarrel!"

"Certainly," Nora insisted. "I'm sure Ethel is in love with him."

"How perfectly ridiculous," Ethel said, with a trace of embarra.s.sment in her manner. "Don't be so silly, Nora. I met him for a week in Paris, that's all, and I found him interesting. He had big talk as well as small, but as for love--please don't be idiotic!"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," laughed her hostess.

"I don't blame you, Ethel," Nora admitted frankly. "If he'd give me a chance I'd fall for him in a minute, but attractive young men never bother about me. The best I can draw is--Monty! I'm beginning to dislike the whole s.e.x."

"Theoretically you are quite right, my dear," said the maturer Alice; "men are awful things--G.o.d bless 'em--but practically, well, some day you'll explode like a bottle of champagne and bubble all over some man."

"Speaking of champagne," Nora said after a disbelieving gesture at the prophecy, "I wish I had another of Michael's purple drinks. He's a genius."

"Do tell him that," the fond wife urged. "The very surest way to Michael's heart is through his buffet. I knew he'd taken to mixing c.o.c.ktails in a graduated chemist's gla.s.s, but this excursion into the chemistry of drinks is rather alarming. He would have been a most conscientious bartender."

"Does he really drink much?" Nora demanded.

"Not when I'm at home," Alice declared. "Nothing after one. If he goes to bed then he's all right; if he doesn't, he sits up till five going the pace that fills. I wouldn't mind if it made him amusing, but it makes him merely sleepy. But he doesn't drink nearly as much as most of the men he knows. What makes you think he does, is that he makes such a ceremony out of drinking. I don't think he enjoys drinking alone. Nora,"

she added, "do sit down; you make me dizzy."

"I can't," Nora told her. "I always stand up for twenty minutes after each meal. It keeps you thin."

"Does it?" Mrs. Harrington asked eagerly, rising from her comfortable chair. "Does it really? Still, I lost nine pounds abroad!"

"Goodness!" Nora cried enviously. "How?"