Название | This House to Let |
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Автор произведения | Le Queux William |
Жанр | Классические детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Классические детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
And Mr Burton, strangely subdued, was quite a good host, hospitable but not pressing. Murchison thought he must have been having some lessons from his sister, who seemed intuitively to do the right thing Still suspicious, he was sure that she had been steadily coaching him how to comport himself on this important night.
For, after all, it must be a feather in their caps, that after having been coldly cast aside by the élite of Blankfield, they had captured for their dining acquaintance two of the most popular officers of the exclusive Twenty-fifth.
And Murchison, ever on the watch for any little sign or symptom to confirm his suspicions, had to admit the pair were behaving perfectly. Not the slightest sign of elation at the small social triumph manifested itself in the demeanour of either. Dinner-parties like this might be a common occurrence for all they showed to the contrary.
The substantial portion of the meal was over. Dessert was brought in, with port, claret and sherry, all of the most excellent vintage. The house was a small one, and not over-staffed, but there was no evidence of lack of means. Perhaps the Burtons were wise people in not keeping up a great show, but spending the greater part of their income on their personal enjoyments.
While the men were still lingering over their dessert, Miss Burton rose.
“There are no ladies to support me, so I shall feel quite lonely by myself,” she said in her pretty, softly modulated voice. “Shall we have coffee in the drawing-room? You men can smoke. It is quite Liberty Hall here. My brother smokes in every room of the house.”
Murchison noted the subtle difference between the brother and sister. If Burton had given the invitation, he would certainly have said, “you gentlemen.” The beautiful Norah would not make a mistake like that.
Five minutes afterwards, the three men trooped into the pretty drawing-room with its subdued, shaded lights. Norah was sitting at a small table, on which were set the coffee equipage with an assortment of liqueurs. Decidedly, the Burtons knew how to do things when they received guests.
The “bounder” brother, as Hugh always called him to himself, had drunk very heavily at dinner of every wine: hock, burgundy and champagne. But evidently he could carry a big quantity. It would take more than a small dinner-party like this to knock him over. When he entered the drawing-room his mien was as subdued as when he had first received his visitors.
They drank their coffee round the fair-sized octagonal table, and then they broke up. Miss Burton retired to a Chesterfield, whither Pomfret followed her, as he was bound to do.
Burton bustled out of the room, and returned with a huge box of expensive cigars. He offered the box to Hugh, who took one with a deprecating look at the young hostess.
“We dare not, Miss Burton. Think of your curtains in the morning.”
“Don’t trouble, Captain Murchison,” she said, with her charming smile. “The curtains have to take what comes in this house. George doesn’t often sit in this room, but when he does he always smokes cigars. I told you this was Liberty Hall, you know.”
The box was offered to Pomfret, who took one. “Do you smoke, Miss Burton?” he asked.
“Once in a blue moon. I think I will have one to-night, as a little treat. It is terribly tempting, when I see all you men smoking.” The enamoured Pomfret fetched her a cigarette, hovered over her with a match, till it was properly lighted, and settled himself again on the Chesterfield. If that silly old Hugh didn’t butt in, he was going to have a nice little chat with this charming girl, who had played the young hostess to such perfection.
But Hugh was safely out of the way. Burton had piloted him to a comfortable easy-chair at the extreme end of the drawing-room, and these two antipathetic persons were apparently engaged in an interesting conversation. Anyway, Murchison’s laugh rang out frequently.
Pomfret, it must be confessed, was not very great at conversation. If the ball were opened, he could set it rolling, but he lacked initiative. He looked at Miss Burton with admiring eyes, but although he had got her comfortably to himself on that convenient Chesterfield, he could think of nothing to say to her.
And then a brilliant inspiration came to him. “I say, how gracefully you smoke.” The young woman burst into a pleasant peal of quite spontaneous laughter. She always had a ready smile at command, but her laughter was generally a little forced. This time it was perfectly genuine.
“Oh, you are really comical,” she cried. “How can any girl smoke a cigarette gracefully? In the first place, it is a most unfeminine thing to do. All people must smoke them in the same way, and there can never be anything graceful in the act.”
“Women don’t smoke them the same way,” replied the young subaltern, with the air of a man who has observed and learned. “Most of them chew them, and hold them at arm’s length, as if they were afraid of being bitten.”
“It’s because they don’t like smoking, really, and only do it to be in the fashion. Now, when I am quite in the mood, I actually revel in a cigarette. I am in the mood to-night.”
Pomfret leaned forward, with a tender expression on his rather homely, but good-humoured, countenance.
“That means that you feel happy to-night, eh?”
She nodded brightly. “Oh, ever so happy! It is seeing new faces, you know, after weeks of isolation,” she added with a touch of almost girlish gaiety. “It seems such ages since we gave a dinner-party. And you and Captain Murchison are so nice. It seems almost like a family gathering.”
“You like my friend Murchison, then? I am glad, because it is to him I owe the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
“I think he is a dear, he seems so honest, straightforward, and so reliable.” She spoke with apparent conviction. “Were you not dreadfully shocked when he told you, for of course he must have told you, how we got to know each other?”
“Not in the least,” said Mr Pomfret stoutly. “I explained to him that people can become acquainted, without being properly introduced in the conventional sort of way.”
“Ah, then, he had some doubts himself?” flashed Miss Burton. “I expect he was a little shocked, if you were not.”
“Not in the slightest, I assure you,” replied Mr Pomfret easily. He was not above telling a white lie upon occasions. He remembered too well the remarks that his friend had made upon the girl’s unconventional behaviour, but he was not going to admit anything.
Miss Burton spoke softly, after a brief pause.
“You and Captain Murchison are very great friends, are you not?”
“Awful pals,” was the genuine response. “You see, he knows all my family. And when I joined the regiment, they deputed him to look after me. He has got a hard task,” he added with a laugh.
“Oh, not so very hard really, I am sure of that.” Norah’s voice was very sweet, very caressing. “But you and your friend are of very different temperaments.”
“In what way?”
She smiled. “Oh, in half a hundred ways. Captain Murchison is as true as steel, but also as hard as steel. You, now, are not in the least hard. You are very kind and compassionate, you think the best of everybody.”
“Don’t flatter me too much, please,” interjected the bashful Pomfret.
“Oh, pardon me, I know just the kind of man you are.” The sweet face was very close to his own, the beautiful, rather sad eyes were looking steadily into his. “You are a rich man, or you would not be in this expensive regiment. But, if you were a poor man, and you had only ten pounds in your pocket, you would lend an impecunious friend five of them, and not trouble whether he repaid you or not.”
“I think you have fitted me, Miss Burton. My dear old chum Hugh is never tired of telling me I am an awful ass.”
“You are both right, really,” answered Miss Burton.
“You