Call up Mr. O'Dowd at Green Fancy. Here's the number."
The mellow voice of the Irishman soon responded.
"I called you up to relieve your mind regarding the young woman who
came last night," he said. "You observe that I say 'came.' She's quite
all right, safe and sound, and no cause for uneasiness. I thought you
meant that she was coming here as a guest, and so I made the very
natural mistake of saying she hadn't come at all, at all. The young
woman in question is Mrs. Van Dyke's maid. But bless me soul, how was
I to know she was even in existence, much less expected by train or
motor or Shanks' mare? Well, she's here, so there's the end of our
mystery. We sha'n't have to follow your gay plan of searching the
wilderness for beauty in distress. Our romance is spoiled, and I am
sorry to say it to you. You were so full of it this morning that you
had me all stirred up meself."
Barnes was slow in replying. He was doubting his own ears. It was not
conceivable that an ordinary--or even an extraordinary--lady's maid
could have possessed the exquisite voice and manner of his chance
acquaintance of the day before, or the temerity to order that sour-
faced chauffeur about as if--The chauffeur!
"But I thought you said that Mr.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118