AT THE ROOKERY TEA ROOM
The tea room was conveniently deserted. Jane smiled gratefully at
the plate of doughnuts and the pot of tea, but Mrs. Corday would not
be tempted. Gloria could not decide whether the woman was imagining
the queer story of a hidden treasure, or whether she might have some
reasonable basis for her continued declaration.
“You see, dear,” she kept insisting, “Mr. Corday had a bad man in his
troupe.” (The word troupe surprised Gloria.) “And there was a big
diamond from India that this Turk, we called him, knew all about.
It was while the wagons were passing from one place to another that
the Turk tried to get the gem box. Many a time I saw it, but Philip
never let it leave his own care.” She sighed and looked off, past the
fanciful decorations, hand-made on the walls of the Rookery. Just then,
in spite of the artificial blemishes intended for aids, Mrs. Corday
looked really attractive. Gloria saw a fading violet tone in the large
round eyes, and the features now warped out of their original lines,
must have been comely enough a few years earlier. Mrs. Corday had
removed the gray gloves and displayed well kept hands--rather too well
kept, Gloria reasoned, but as a mounting for so many showy rings, hands
would need to be unusual.
“I always hate to talk of this because Jack has begged me to
be--careful,” continued the woman. “There was a time when the lawyers
declared I was crazy, didn’t know what I was talking about, and they
even went so far as to try to have a guardian appointed for my Jack.
Think of it!” Her eyes snapped little flashes and she sat bolt upright
as if preparing to strike at an invisible enemy.
Gloria put her hand out instinctively in a caressing way, and Jane once
more pressed the comfort of a good cup of tea, upon the narrator.
“Perhaps I do need it,” admitted the woman. “I get so worked up when I
think of those robbing lawyers.”
While a fresh pot of tea was being fetched, Gloria wondered if the fine
young man, described by Trixy as being one of the riders with Jack on
the early morning trail, could be one of the robbing kind. Mrs. Corday
sipped her tea quite daintily, and beyond the extravagance of her
attire and the gushing manner, Gloria could see little to find fault
with. But then, Gloria was simple in her own tastes, and as Pat would
say she “made generous allowance for every one.” It would have been
more accurate to say that Gloria merely understood folks better than
did the girls bent too closely upon social foibles.
While all this flashed back and forth through Gloria’s mind, the time
it took was too brief to count. It was very important for her to
acquire some correct estimate of the woman before her, to know, if
possible whether to oppose or agree with her idea that the necklace
might contain some clue to the hidden gems, if such there were, but one
consideration was paramount:
Mrs. Corday should not go up to the Hall and argue her way to Jack.
That would be too risky. So Gloria labored to detain her.
The woman finished her tea and again took up the story of the gems.
Gloria suppressed more than one smile as she recalled her own and
Trixy’s joke about the Pirate’s Daughter, for Jack was now assuming
the fanciful character in reality.
“I know you think this is very queer,” said Mrs. Corday, “but you see,
show people are always different from other folks.”
“Show people!” exclaimed Jane, pressing her napkin to her lips in
consternation.
“Why, yes. Didn’t you understand that? Mr. Corday was the owner of
the Great American Equine Show?” The widow seemed to think this fact
should have been known to any intelligent American. She extolled the
wonders of the show, declared Mr. Corday was one of the biggest men
ever connected with any circus; that his troupes were unique in their
captivating attractions, and judging from her elaborate descriptions
and her extravagant estimate, this big show must have been the loser in
not having had Mrs. Corday for its press manager.
“I had charge of all the wardrobes!” she said proudly, “and I had five
other women under me in the women’s tent. Such robes! Such costumes and
such perfectly magnificent trappings! Why, we had one little woman,
her name was Yvette Duval and she rode our whitest Arab steed. Her
trappings were really studded with stones, gems given to her by great
foreign potentates that we had performed for.”
“Did Jack have any of those things with her at school? I mean at
Altmount?” asked Gloria frankly. She was too surprised to be tactful.
“Jack have circus things with her! Why, my dear child, I couldn’t use
the word in her hearing. She detests it all, although she loved her
father dearly, and he perfectly idolized her, yet, you could scarcely
get her to come near the grounds. She’s so proud and high strung.”
During all this Mrs. Corday fingered the little necklace, pausing often
to scrutinize some newly discovered vein in a stone or color in a bead.
“Then Jack would not have had any spangled nets or beaded things with
her?” persisted Gloria, thinking of the trunk as yet unidentified.
“She has one little dark beaded dress I bought for her, myself. A
friend brought two over from Paris. Also she has a few neck beads, but
that’s all,” declared the woman earnestly. “No, Jack wouldn’t so much
as hang upon the wall one of her own dear mother’s trophies. You see
riders have so many such gifts and sometimes they are so valuable, but
Jack could never be brought to admit that her mother rode in a circus,
although she was an artist, if there ever was one and Jack inherited
her agility. Poor dear little woman! Her health failed and she went
very young.” An appropriate pause gave Gloria time to give some little
attention to Jane. But Jane was, as ever, too good natured to feel
neglected. She nibbled the doughnuts, and seemed to be content just to
be near Gloria.
“I couldn’t take time to tell you the whole story,” Mrs. Corday said
next, “but what puzzles me, now that I’ve got over my surprise far
enough to think straight, is, how any one at this out of the way school
ever got hold of these beads, if they really are the lost clue. The
reason Jack came here was because the Miss Altons knew dear Blanco, she
was Jack’s own mother, and she always wanted Jack to come here. But you
see, travelling all over the country, it was just natural she kept her
only child within reach. Jack has had a governess or tutor since she
could say her A. B. C.’s--but I’m afraid she is not overfond of regular
school work. There I go, rambling again,” laughed the continuous
talker. “But I do feel so at home with you both,” she beamed. “And if
only this is what we have all been searching for!” she held the beads
up so that the light of the table candle developed every little vein
or marking in the curious collection.
“Who would know if this really is the clue?” asked Gloria. She had
almost lost all doubts and was quite won over to the story. She did
remember, however, that deluded persons were often quite wonderful in
their powers for deluding others.
“Mr. Gilbert, he’s one human lawyer. A young fellow too, very handsome,
a friend of Miss Alton’s. He made all arrangements for Jack here,”
explained Mrs. Corday, “and he has seen the necklace with the clue
stone in it, for Philip, that’s Mr. Corday, told me he, Mr. Gilbert,
had all the particulars. But how _could_ it get to Altmount?”
“Jack never saw this, so far as I know,” Gloria said reflectively. “In
fact, I have never had it on before this morning. Isn’t that strange?”
“That’s the way things happen with you, Glory dear,” said Jane proudly.
“I’ve known your father to look for his pen knife for days, and I’d
help him too, but you would come along without looking at all and lay
your hands right upon it. Don’t you believe some folks are naturally
lucky?” she asked Mrs. Corday.
Gloria smiled incredulously. She didn’t believe it, that was evident.
But she was more mystified than ever about the giver of the necklace
and the owner of the trunk, for there was no doubt of it, she who owned
the trunk had given the necklace in reward for the finding of the big
red stone. And all this had come about from that simple incident of
Gloria’s first mistake. And even Maggie, the voluble, had innocently
contributed, for it was she who found “the bead” and left it carefully
upon Gloria’s pin tray. But there the mystery stood. Now the great
question was:
Who gave Gloria the necklace?
Jack, suspected at first, was, according to Mrs. Corday’s story,
entirely eliminated. Yet no other girl seemed a plausible possibility.
Could Jack have so deceived her stepmother? Would her dislike for the
circus lead her to ignore the hidden gems that the old Arab, chief of
the troupe, had trailed from his own country?
“That old Turk,” said Mrs. Corday, as if she had been following
Gloria’s thoughts, “made a dash to get the jewel box one night, and
only for the quick work of a couple of Jap jugglers he would have got
it. That was why Philip hid it, and he covered every trace of the spot
so cleverly (he was such a smart man) that it can’t be found except by
following the directions given in a paper to Mr. Gilbert, the lawyer.
These directions are pointed out by veins in a moss agate, and that
agate was put in a necklace for Jack. It disappeared somehow about a
year ago, and I’ve followed up every one who could possibly have come
in touch with it. I believe it was shown to one or two of the women,
but they were honest as the sun. They never took it intentionally.
Yvette Duval was one of them but she died a little later. She had a
daughter. That just gives me an idea! You haven’t a girl at Altmount
named Yvette, have you?”
“No,” replied Gloria. “I’m sure we haven’t, for I helped one of the
teachers make the list for the year book. There wasn’t any such name.”
“Because her mother’s things were taken from the tent when I was
attending to my sick husband. I always insist on each article being
doubly checked up so that there can be no mistake, but while I was
away Stella, my assistant, had the wardrobe in charge. Dear me!” she
exclaimed suddenly, “that hack is gone and look at the time!”
She held out her hand and displayed a very pretty wrist watch.
It was almost noon!
With a little gasp Gloria realized that her morning was gone, and with
it the prize essay faded further and further away from becoming even
a possibility. The young girl in the commercial department who was to
type it for her, would probably have given up expecting the “copy,”
which was to have been handed her in installments during the morning.
And this was the very last day! There was no hiding her disappointment,
and Jane quickly discerned it.
“What is it, Glory?” she asked. “Missed your classes or something?”
“No, I had a day off without classes,” replied Gloria, retrieving her
smile. “But I had no idea it was so late. Mrs. Corday has told us such
an interesting story----”
“I feel as if I had been shot out of a cannon,” declared Mrs. Corday,
sending a critical hand over her side hair, then smoothing down the
closely fitted lines of her smart coat. “Really, I can’t believe I’m
awake. First it was the shock of Jack’s accident, then the indignation
I felt when I believed those old Alton ladies were plotting to keep me
from her. You see, I have had so much of that sort of thing from tricky
lawyers. But the cap to the climax came when this little trinket
clinked at your feet, Gloria. I love to say the name. It is like
a--like a blessing, somehow.”
The owner of the name looked like a blessing fulfilled just then, but
she was soon forced to spoil the tableau by helping Jane with her
bonnet and coat.
Mrs. Corday seemed more agitated than ever. She insisted upon paying
the full check and Gloria noticed she left a generous “tip” on the
table for the girl in the Priscilla costume. And the natural color
surmounting the artificial in her florid face, betrayed a state of keen
excitement.
“Now, where’s that miserable hack driver?” she complained.
“He’ll be along, fast enough,” replied Gloria, wondering where they
would go this time, and hoping desperately it would not be directly to
Altmount.
“There he is,” said Jane, for faithful Dave loomed up quickly as the
party emerged from the tea room.
“Would you be willing to trust me with this, for a short time?” Mrs.
Corday asked Gloria, holding up again the much suspected necklace.
“Why, certainly. Keep it as long as you like. I only hope it does not
disappoint you in the end,” said Gloria earnestly.
“Then, I believe I’ll go straight back and hunt up Mr. Gilbert. I hate
to go without seeing my darling Jack, but if you ever knew how this
matter has haunted me! I don’t wonder they thought me crazy at times.
I dream night after night that Philip is begging me to get the big
stone he was so fond of. Because it was Jack’s mother’s, because it
had been given her by some great foreign prince, and because it has
some value greater to Jack’s family than mere money. You see,” she was
panting from the long, vehement speech, and she was ready now to get
into Dave’s long suffering taxi, “you see,” she repeated. “I feel the
charge was given me and I must fulfill it. If only this----” The beads
were now almost reverently dropped into her handsome bag--“is the clue.
How shall we ever, ever thank you?” she asked the perplexed girl, whose
cheeks burned and eyes fairly stung with suppressed emotion.
“Glory was always lucky,” insisted patient, quiet Jane.