greater."
"I, without question," flashed out Miss Keane. "Otherwise I should havehad the sense to scurry away like yourself. We were both frightenedrabbits, but you could run to a place of safety while I stoodparalysed."
Mrs L'Estrange turned away the awkward thrust with a charming smile."I have made up my mind to one thing," she remarked with an air ofconviction. "Never, so long as the War lasts, will I dine out of my ownhome. This night's experience has taught me a lesson. I don't want asecond one."
At this juncture, Tommy Esmond interposed. "I was going to bring myfriend Spencer round to you to-night. But I suppose you feel a bit tooshattered, eh? You would like to get home and rest."
"Oh dear, no!" replied the lady vivaciously. "I never alter my habitsfor anything or anybody. Let us all go along at once. I will go withColonel Desmond. You and Mr Spencer can continue your charge ofStella." But Guy had a small duty to perform. "I think if you willexcuse me, I will join you a little later. I want to go round toinquire after my uncle and cousin. He is a very old man, and I shouldlike to know he is quite safe."
So it was arranged. The others drove off to Mrs L'Estrange's flat, andSpencer, finding he would have some time to wait for a taxi, walked toCarlton House Terrace, where Lord Southleigh had his town house.
The footman who opened the door informed him that his lordship and LadyNina were still in the dining-room with a small party. The earl hadtaken it all very calmly, and his daughter, who, unlike poor StellaKeane, was a young woman of remarkable courage, had not been disturbedat all.
"Are they alone, Robert?"
"No, sir, two old friends of his lordship's came to dinner to-night andare still with them. But, of course, they will be glad to see you."
However, his duty being performed, and learning that all wassatisfactory, Spencer thought he might, as well get along to the flat.He had been strangely attracted by the beautiful girl, whom even herobvious terror and lack of self-control could not deprive of her charm.
"No, I won't come in. Tell them I called round to make sure they wereall safe. And say to her ladyship I will look in to-morrow afternoonabout tea-time."
He went into his club for a few moments to see if there were anyletters, and half an hour later was at Mrs L'Estrange's door.
She occupied the first floor of an imposing block of flats, recentlyerected in one of the semi-fashionable quarters of London. She mightnot be in very affluent circumstances, as Esmond had hinted, but shewould have to pay a very handsome rent for her abode.
The door was opened by a decorous-looking butler, with the air of onewho had served in good families. A man passed out as Spencer entered.He was a good-looking young fellow of about twenty-five, in khaki.Spencer knew him well by sight as the eldest son and heir of a richbrewer.
His face did not wear a very happy expression. It did not require aSherlock Holmes to surmise that his visit had been an expensive one, andthat he was hurrying away to avoid further temptation.
In the centre of a rather spacious hall, Stella Keane and Tommy Esmondstood chatting.
She greeted the newcomer with a bright and friendly smile. She nolonger looked pale, in fact he thought there was a slight suspicion ofrouge on the fair cheeks. She was too good-looking to need the aid ofart, but perhaps she wanted to conceal the ravages inflicted on herbeauty by that terrible time at the "Excelsior."
"You are not very long after us. I conclude you found your friends werequite safe."
She had gathered from the garrulous Tommy what she had not known before,that Spencer was next in succession to the earldom, also that LordSouthleigh had a very pretty daughter, who was an accomplished youngsportswoman, a daring rider to hounds, an adept at golf, fishing, andother pastimes of a strenuous nature.
She had pricked up her ears at mention of the cousin. Artfully shepumped Tommy as to whether there was any tender feeling between therelatives.
But Tommy could give no information on this point. Spencer was a veryreticent man about his private affairs, he explained. Personally, heshould not consider him particularly susceptible to female influence.But he had heard that the old earl, who had a shockingly weak heart, andwas likely to go off at any moment, would have viewed a marriage betweenthe cousins with favour.
She mused over his words. He did not think him particularly susceptibleto female influence. And yet she was sure there was admiration, open,undisguised admiration, in the glances he had bestowed upon herto-night. He was evidently not deeply in love with his pretty sportingcousin, or she would have been Mrs Guy Spencer before now, assuming, ofcourse, that she was ready to obey her father's wishes.
It was after a short silence that Miss Keane put a somewhat abruptquestion to him: "Are you fond of play, Mr Spencer? Everybody is whocomes here."
"Not really. I am a very lukewarm gambler. I don't mind a littleflutter now and then, as a diversion. I always enjoy a small gamble atMonte Carlo, for example, but I never get carried away. When I havelost enough, I stop. Nothing could induce me to stake another _sou_."
"Can you stop as easily when you are winning? That, I fancy, is wherethe self-control comes in. But I think I am rather glad you are not oneof the infatuated ones. I was brought up in an atmosphere of gambling."
There was a pathetic shadow in the beautiful brown eyes as she spoke.Spencer's interest in her, a girl he had only known for a couple ofhours, quickened. The glance he turned on her was full of sympathy,although he did not utter a word. It said as plainly as if he hadspoken: "Tell me more about yourself, you will find an attentivelistener."
"My father and mother were both desperate gamblers. They staked andlost everything they had at cards, on the race-course, at Monte Carlo.My poor cousin, Mrs L'Estrange, has the same fever in her veins."
Now that he had invited her confidence, he was a little embarrassed byit. He did not know her well enough to condole with her. By way ofrelieving the tension, he uttered a few trite remarks on the subject ofgambling generally.
"Very sad when people are bitten by it to that extent. In my smallexperience, and I am only speaking of cards, I have found that, at theend of twelve months, you leave off pretty well where you started, goodplayers or bad. You lose a hundred this week, you win a hundred thenext, and so on, and so forth. If you are a good player, you get badcards; if a duffer, you get good cards. And so the bad player has apretty even chance with his more skilful opponent."
Miss Keane threw aside her momentary sadness, and laughed at hisscientific exposition.
"You have evidently thought it all out," she said brightly. "But pleasedon't inflict these cheerful theories on my cousin. She is a mosttragic being when she loses. She thinks herself, and I believe is, oneof the most scientific bridge-players in England, and she cannot bebrought to understand why the duffers should have a look in."
At this juncture Tommy Esmond interposed. It may have occurred to himthat they were wasting precious time. They had come here for thespecial purpose of gambling.
"What do you say to joining the others? We are in the very temple ofgambling, and I know my young friend would like a little flutter."
"Certainly. When I last peeped in, Amy looked the spirit of despair. Ithink she must have been losing heavily."
She turned to lead the way, but at that instant the door bell rang, andshe halted, in readiness to greet the visitor, whoever it might be; andthere entered a florid-looking, stout man, who advanced towards her witheffusion, and both hands outstretched.
"My dear Stella, I have been thinking of you ever since the raid began;I know how terribly you suffer when they are on. And I knew you weredining out to-night. I am rejoiced to see you safe and sound. I cameround here the moment I could get away." Miss Keane flushed slightly ashe took her hands and wrung them impressively to show his gratitude ather escape from peril. Tommy Esmond had given him a cool nod. But shefelt Spencer's calm, critical gaze upon this ebullient expression ofyoung English manhood.
It was not
so much what he said, as his manner of saying it. Bounderwas written all over him, in his appearance, his manners, his gestures.
She answered him very briefly, almost curtly, as if she wereadministering a cold douche. Then the flush deepened as she turned toSpencer.
"May I introduce my cousin, Mr Dutton?" The florid man bowed with anexaggerated air of cordiality. Spencer, who had taken a violent disliketo him from the first second he saw him, acknowledged the salutationwith chilling gravity; and Stella Keane could almost read his thoughts,as his gaze travelled from one to the other.
How could this imperial-looking girl have such an unmitigated bounderfor a relative? What was the mystery about her that could make acreature like this claim kinship with her?
CHAPTER TEN.
Mrs L'Estrange was evidently a