Fischer had by no means the appearance of a discomfited man that
evening, when some time later Pamela and Lutchester approached the
little group of which he seemed, somehow, to have become the central
figure. It was a small party, but, in its way, a distinguished one.
Pamela's aunt was a member of an historic American family, and a woman
of great social position, not only in New York but in Washington
itself. Of the remaining guests, one was a financial magnate of
world-wide fame, and the other, Senator Joyce, a politician of such
eminence that his name was freely mentioned as a possible future
president. Mrs. Hastings greeted Pamela and her escort without
enthusiasm.
"My dear child," she exclaimed, "how extraordinary to find you here!"
"Is it?" Pamela observed indifferently. "You know Mr. Lutchester, don't
you, aunt?"
Mrs. Hastings remembered her late dinner guest, but her recognition was
icy and barely polite. She turned away at once and resumed her
conversation with Fischer. Lutchester was not introduced to either of
the other members of the party. He laid his hand on the back of an
empty chair and turned it round for Pamela, but she stopped him with a
word of thanks. Something had gone from her own naturally pleasant
tone. She held her hand higher, even, than her aunt's, as she turned a
little insistently towards her.
"So sorry, aunt," she announced, "but we are going now. Good night!"
Mrs. Hastings disapproved.
"We have seen nothing of you yet, Pamela," she said stiffly. "You had
better stay with us and we will drop you on our way home."
Pamela shook her head.
"I am coming with you to-morrow, you know," she reminded her aunt.
"To-night I am Mr. Lutchester's guest and he will see me home."
Mrs. Hastings drew her niece a little closer to her.
"Is this part of your European manners, Pamela?" she whispered, "that
you dine alone in a restaurant with an acquaintance? Let me tell you
frankly that I dislike the idea most heartily. My chaperonage is always
at your service, and any girl of your age in America would be delighted
to avail herself of it."
"It is very kind of you, aunt," Pamela replied, "but in a general way I
finished with chaperons long ago."
"Where is Jimmy?" Mrs. Hastings inquired.
"He was coming with us to-night," Pamela explained, "but I asked him
particularly to stay away. I have seen so little of Mr. Lutchester
since he arrived, and I want to talk to him."
The financial magnate awoke from a comatose inertia and suddenly
gripped Lutchester by the hand.
"Lutchester," he repeated to himself. "I thought I knew your face.
Stayed with your uncle down at Monte Carlo once. You came there for a
week."
Lutchester acknowledged his recollection of the fact and the two men
exchanged a few commonplace remarks. Mrs. Hastings took the opportunity
to try and induce Pamela to converse with Fischer.
"We have all been so interested to-night," she said, "in hearing what
Mr. Fischer has to say about the situation on the other side."
Pamela was primed for combat.
"Has Mr. Fischer been telling you fairy tales?" she laughed.
"Fairy tales?" her aunt repeated severely. "I don't understand."
Fischer's steel grey eyes flashed behind his spectacles.
"I'm afraid that Miss Van Teyl's prejudices," he observed bitterly,
"are very firmly fixed."
"Then she is no true American," Mrs. Hastings pronounced didactically.
"Oh, I can assure you that I am not prejudiced," Pamela declared,
"only, you see, I, too, have just arrived from the other side, and I
have been able to use my own eyes and judgment. If there is any
prejudice in the matter, why should it not come from Mr. Fischer? He
has the very good excuse of his German birth."
"Mr. Fischer is an American citizen," Mrs. Hastings reminded her niece,
"and personally, I think that the American of German birth is one of
the most loyal and long-suffering persons I know. I cannot say as much
for the English people who are living over here. And as to fairy
stories--"
Pamela intervened, turning towards Fischer with a little laugh.
"Oh, he can't even deny those! What about the great German victory in
the North Sea, Mr. Fischer? Do you happen to have seen the latest
telegrams?"
"Our first reports were perhaps a little too glowing," Mr. Fischer
acknowledged. "That, under the circumstances, is, I think, only
natural. But the facts remain that the invincible English and the
untried German fleets have met, to the advantage of the German."
Pamela shook her head.
"I cannot even allow that," she objected. "The advantage, if there was
any, rested on the other side. But I just want you to remember what we
were told in that first wonderful outpouring of fabricated news--that
the naval supremacy of England was gone for ever, that the freedom of
the seas was assured, that German merchant vessels were steaming home
from all directions! No, Mr. Fischer! Between ourselves, I think that
your cause needs a few fairy stories, and I look upon you as one of the
greatest experts in the world when it comes to concocting them."
Fischer, who had risen to his feet half way through Pamela's speech,
was obviously a little taken aback by her direct attack. Mrs. Hastings
took no pains to conceal her annoyance.
"For a young girl of your age, Pamela," she said sternly, "I consider
that you express your opinions far too freely. Your attitude, too, is
unjustifiable."
"Ah, well, you see, I am a little prejudiced against Mr. Fischer,"
Pamela laughed, turning towards him. "He happened to defeat one of my
pet schemes."
"But I am ready to further your dearest one," he reminded her, dropping
his voice, and leading her a little on one side. "What about our
alliance?"
"You scarcely need my aid," she observed, with a shrug of the
shoulders.
He remonstrated vigorously. There was a revived hopefulness in his
tone. Perhaps, after all, here was the secret of her displeasure with
him.
"You wonder, perhaps, to see me with your uncle. I give you my word
that it is a dinner of courtesy only. I give you my word that I have
not opened my lips on political matters. I have been waiting for your
answer."
"I have lost faith in you," she told him calmly. "I am not even certain
that you possess the authority you spoke of."
"If that is all," he replied eagerly, "you shall see it with your own
eyes. You are staying with your uncle and aunt in Washington, are you
not? I shall call upon you immediately I arrive, and bring it with me."
She nodded.
"Well, that remains a challenge, then, Mr. Fischer. And now, if you are
quite ready," she added, turning to Lutchester.... "Good-by,
everybody!"
"Aren't your ears burning?" Pamela asked, after Lutchester had handed
her into a taxicab and taken his place by her side. "I can absolutely
feel them talking about us."
"I seem to be most regrettably unpopular," Lutchester remarked.
"Even now I am puzzled about that," Pamela confessed, "but you see my
aunt considers herself the arbitress of what is right or wrong in
social matters, and she is exceedingly narrow-minded. In her eyes it is
no doubt a greater misdemeanour for me to have dined at the
Ritz-Carlton alone with you, than if I had conspired against the
Government."
"And this, I thought, was the land of freedom for your sex!"
"Ah, but my aunt is rather an exception," Pamela reminded him. "The one
thing I cannot understand, however, is that she should have allowed
herself to be seen dining with Mr. Oscar Fischer at the Ritz-Carlton. I
should have thought that would have been almost as heinous to her as my
own little slip from grace."
"Is your aunt by way of being interested in politics?" Lutchester
inquired.
"Not in a general way," Pamela replied, "but she is intensely
ambitious, and she'd give her soul if Uncle Theodore could get a
nomination for the Presidency."
"Perhaps she is taking up the German-American cause, then," Lutchester
suggested. "It is a possible platform, at any rate."
"I foresee a new party," Pamela murmured thoughtfully. "Now I come to
think of it, Mr. Elsworthy, the fat old gentleman who knew your uncle,
is very pro-German."
He leaned towards her.
"We have had enough politics," he insisted. "There is the other thing.
Couldn't I have my answer?"
She let him take her fingers. In the cool darkness through which they
were rushing her face seemed white, her head was a little averted. He
tried to draw her to him, but she was unyielding.
"Please not," she begged. "I like you--and I'm glad I like you," she
added, "but I don't feel certain about anything. Couldn't we be just
friends a little longer?"
"It must be as you say, but I am horribly in love with you," he
confessed. "That may sound rather a bald way of saying so, but it's the
truth, Pamela, dear."
His clasp upon her fingers was tightened. She turned towards him. Her
expression was serious but delightful.
"Well, let me tell you this much, at least," she confided. "I have
never before in my life been so glad to hear any one say so.... And
here we are at home, and there's Jimmy on the doorstep. What is it,
Jimmy," she asked, waving her hand.
He came down towards her in a state of great excitement.
"Say, we've had to open up the office again!" he exclaimed. "The
telegrams are rolling in now. That so-called German naval victory was a
fake. The Britishers came out right on top. You know you stand to net at
least half a million, Mr. Lutchester? The worst of it is I have another
client who's going to lose it."
Pamela shook her head at Lutchester.
"The possibility of increased responsibilities," he whispered. "A
married man needs something to fall back upon."