Do you know what happened? An electric light strung on the tree above
the table shone out, and there I stood under it with Moriway's eyes
full upon me.
"Great--!" he began.
"Just ring again--" Mr. Latimer's voice came soft as silk.
My fingers trembled so, the bell clattered out of them and fell
jangling to the ground. But it rang. And the light above me went out
like magic. I fell back into a garden chair.
"I beg your pardon, Mr.--was Moriway the name?--I must have interrupted
you, but my eyes are troubling me this evening, and I can't bear the
light. Miss Omar, I thought the housekeeper had instructed you: one
ring means lights, two mean I want Burnett. Here he comes... Burnett,
take Sergeant Mulhill through the place. He's looking for a thief.
You will accompany the Sergeant, Mr.--Moriway?"
"Thank you--no. If you don't mind, I'll wait out here."
That meant me. I moved toward the gate.
"Not at all. Have a seat. Miss Omar, sit down, won't you?" I sat down.
"Miss Omar reads to me, Mr. Moriway. I'm an invalid, as you see,
dependent on the good offices of my man. I find a woman's voice a
soothing change."
"It must be. Particularly if the voice is pleasing. Miss Omar--I
didn't quite catch the name--"
He waited. But Miss Omar had nothing to say that minute.
"Yes, that's the name. You've got it all right," said Latimer. "An
uncommon name, isn't it?"
"I don't think I ever heard it before. Do you know, Miss Omar, as I
heard your voice just before we got to the gate, it sounded singularly
boyish to me."
"Mr. Latimer does not find it so--do you?" I said as sweet--as sweet as
I could coax. How sweet's that, Tom Dorgan?
"Not at all." A little laugh came from Latimer as though he was
enjoying a joke all by himself. But Moriway jumped with satisfaction.
He knew the voice all right.
"Have you a brother, may I ask?" He leaned over and looked keenly at
me.
"I am an orphan," I said sadly, "with no relatives."
"A pitiful position," sneered Moriway. "You look so much like a boy I
know that--"
"Do you really think so?" So awfully polite was Latimer to such a rat
as Moriway. Why? Well, wait. "I can't agree with you. Do you know,
I find Miss Omar very feminine. Of course, short hair--"
"Her hair is short, then!"
"Typhoid," I murmured.
"Too bad!" Moriway sneered.
"Yes," I snapped. "I thought it was at the time. My hair was very
heavy and long, and I had a chance to sit in a window at Troyon's where
they were advertising a hair tonic and--"
Rotten? Of course it was. I'd no business to gabble, and just because
you and your new job, Mag, came to my mind at that minute, there I went
putting my foot in it.
Moriway laughed. I didn't like the sound of his laugh.
"Your reader is versatile, Mr. Latimer," he said.
"Yes." Latimer smoothed the soft silk rug that lay over him. "Poverty
and that sort of versatility are often bedfellows, eh?... Tell me, Mr.
Moriway, these lost diamonds are yours?"
"No. They belong to a--a friend of mine, Mrs. Kingdon."
"Oh! the old lady who was married this afternoon to a young
fortune-hunter!" I couldn't resist it.
Moriway jumped out of his seat.
"She was not married," he stuttered. "She--"
"Changed her mind? How sensible of her! Did she find out what a crook
the fellow was? What was his name--Morrison? No--Middleway--I have
heard it."
"May I ask, Miss Omar"--I didn't have to see his face; his voice told
how mad with rage he was--"how you come to be acquainted with a matter
that only the contracting parties could possibly know of?"
"Why, they can't have kept it very secret, the old lady and the young
rascal who was after her money, for you see we both knew of it; and I
wasn't the bride and you certainly weren't the groom, were you?"
An exclamation burst from him.
"Mr. Latimer," he stormed, "may I see you a moment alone?"
Phew! That meant me. But I got up just the same.
"Just keep your seat, Miss Omar." Oh, that silken voice of Latimer's!
"Mr. Moriway, I have absolutely no acquaintance with you. I never saw
you till to-night. I can't imagine what you may have to say to me,
that my secretary--Miss Omar acts in that capacity--may not hear."
"I want to say," burst from Moriway, "that she looks the image of the
boy Nat, who stole Mrs. Kingdon's diamonds, that the voice is exactly
the same, that--"
"But you have said it, Mr. Moriway--quite successfully intimated it, I
assure you."
"She knows of my--of Mrs. Kingdon's marriage, that that boy Nat found
out about."
"And you yourself also, as Miss Omar mentioned."
"Myself? Damn it, I'm Moriway, the man she was going to marry. Why
shouldn't I--"
"Ah--h!" Latimer's shoulders shook with a gentle laugh. "Well, Mr.
Moriway, gentlemen don't swear in my garden. Particularly when ladies
are present. Shall we say good evening? Here comes Mulhill now....
Nothing, Sergeant? Too bad the rogue escaped, but you'll catch him.
They may get away from you, but they never stay long, do they? Good
evening--good evening, Mr. Moriway."
They tramped on and out, Moriway's very back showing his rage. He
whispered something to the Sergeant, who turned to look at me but shook
his head, and the gate clanged after them.
A long sigh escaped me.
"Warm, isn't it?" Latimer leaned forward. "Now, would you mind
ringing again, Miss Omar?"