His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was a heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering it a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and slipped a note into his hand.
"Pardon, monsieur," she exclaimed, with a smile. I feared that I was too late."
Mr. Sabin's fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely into the carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he permitted himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her. He read the few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
"I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way to C. H. I want to speak to you for a moment. Be in the Palm Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you. If possible keep out of sight. If you should have left my maid will bring this on to your hotel.
"M. C."
Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity contracted his forehead.
If I were a younger man," he murmured to himself, "I might believe that this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer's jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year.
She is unscrupulous enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or unlikely. I wonder - "
He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene's maid, and learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and was at once taken up to her boudoir.
"My dear UNCLE," Helene exclaimed, "you have arrived most opportunely. We have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which every one seems to think wonderful."
"You are very kind, Helene," Mr. Sabin said. "I cannot refuse anything which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more than a few minutes."
"We need not leave for an hour," Helene said, "and I am dressed except for my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know."
"I have seen Lucille this evening," Mr. Sabin answered.
"At Dorset House!"
"Yes."
Helene sat down, smiling.
"Do tell me all about it."
"There is very little to tell," Mr. Sabin answered.
"She is with you - she returns at least!"
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
"No," he answered. "She remains at Dorset House."
Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and sipped the liqueur which Camperdown's own servant had just brought him.
"It is very hard, Helene," he said, "to make you altogether understand the situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss with you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it has failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But the struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win."
"Lucille herself - " Helene began hesitatingly.
"Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am anxious to have her," Mr. Sabin said.
Helene threw up her hands.
"It is bewildering," she exclaimed.
"It must seem so to you," Mr. Sabin admitted.
"I wish that Lucille were anywhere else," Helene said. "The Dorset House set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have a somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a brilliant woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing things, and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by the name of the Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to dominate society, and we poor people who abide by the conventions are absolutely nowhere beside them.
They think that we are bourgeois because we have virtue, and prehistoric because we are not decadent."
"The Duke - " Mr. Sabin remarked.
"Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course," Helene admitted.
"He is a fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a set I cannot imagine."
Mr. Sabin smiled.
"C'est la femme toujours!" he remarked. "His Grace is, I fear, henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people.
And now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night."
Helene laughed softly.
"Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon's cousin, you know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards here. Shall I really see you there?"
"I believe so," Mr. Sabin answered.
"And Lucille?"
"It is possible."
"There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention, or anything of that sort?"
Mr. Sabin shook his head.
"Lucille and I are the best of friends," he answered. "Talk to her, if you will. By the bye, is that twelve o'clock? I must hurry.
Doubtless we shall meet again at the ball."
But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
