H. B. Marriott Watson

“ He began dimly to guess at the sub-currents that had flowed in poor Delia’s mind. As he moved toward the card-room to see that his guests were all right there was a loud rap on the door of the flat.
“Mrs. Marchmont!” he cried as he dashed forward.
But it was not Mrs. Marchmont; it was an elderly gentleman of austere appearance and a stout, buxom matron who fronted him.
“I demand,” began the elderly gentleman in severe tones, “I demand the release of the two unfortunate young ladies who have fallen into your clutches.” ”

“ But it didn’t: it was old Jardine, old Jardine who was just over thirty and a merry money-spender admired of Sir Peter Bale.
“We can start a rubber when the next man comes,” he said cheerfully. “Shall I drag Peter out?”
“No, no,” said de Lys. “We'll ring for him.”
He was duly rung for, and entered the card-room with a huge sandwich in one hand and a glass of whiskey and soda in the other.
When de Lys left the boudoir Delia stepped to the door. She listened intently to the voices that came down the hall. More men were coming. It was awful. She turned the key desperately. ”

“ Bet that’s old Jardine,” said Peter, coming to a pause on his way to the larder and Jacob.
“You get on,” remarked de Lys.
“I want to see if old Jardine—” began the refractory youth, but he was seized in a nervous grip and urged forward.
“Jacob!” called his master to that individual on his way to answer the door. “Take Sir Peter Bale and put him in the kitchen, and get him something to eat. I'll see to the door.”
“Yes, my lord,” Jacob’s immobility suffered no eclipse. Reassured for the moment, de Lys hurried back and threw open the door of the flat. ”

“ They’re all men,” she said passionately. “All men. We're lost.”
Marjorie looked a little concerned at this announcement, but Lois did not seem upset. She had found a mirror on the wall in which her small face appeared, and was examining it critically and approvingly.
“There!” Delia clutched her sister. “That’s another ring and more men.”
“But,” said Marjorie with her mouth full of chocolate, “he said he was going to get Mrs. Marchmont to take us.”
“I don’t mind if they are men,” said the rector’s eighteen-year-old daughter demurely.
“Chocs, Lois?” inquired Marjorie, holding out a box. ”

“ Audley Court caught her eye as she ran through the pages, and she went down the list of names, stopping at No. 110. “Captain J. F. Hazlitt.” Delia reflected. She, like Marjorie, had noticed the “my lord” in Jacob’s report. But this was Captain Hazlitt’s flat. She had read, like Marjorie, of lords often enough, but she had also read of bogus lords, as well as of wicked lords, who were not to be trusted, and whom, particularly, innocent and pretty young girls should avoid like poison. Out of the tail of her eye she scrutinized de Lys. ”

“ Where’s Mrs. Bellamy?” said Lois, looking at de Lys with a certain wonder and a little coquetry.
Like a coward he left the explanation to the two girls, and retired to reconnoiter in the vicinity of the kitchen. He heard Peter Bale conversing cheerfully as he ate, and returned. Miss Lois was a little red of face, but he did not think she was very much distressed by the news she had received. Marjorie had evidently thrown all her burden on him. It was necessary for him to justify her confidence.
“You hear we’re in a bit of a stew, Miss Lois,” he began. “Your sisters—”
“She’s not our sister. ”

“ Marchmont, who was explaining the situation tersely to the Baxters.
“Mrs. Marchmont,” he cried, breaking in, “I have already told you you are an angel. But I don’t think I’ll see you into the brougham. Jacob shall. Good-by, Miss Marjorie, Miss Lois, and Miss Delia. Forget an aged, battered Bluebeard. I really must have that whiskey.” He entered the card-room. ”

“ Baxter fiercely.
“My dear lady, you shall enter and seek them. They shall do just as they think fit,” he said mildly.
Mrs. Baxter seemed afraid to step over the threshold of such a den of iniquity, but her husband’s presence encouraged her, and she entered. “Second on the right, and the kitchen,” he directed them. He remained to close the door, when something white in the dim-lit passage caught his attention. He knew it. She was hanging about, anxious for the rescue of the lambs.
“Oh, Miss Delia, Miss Delia!” he called out softly. “And I thought you believed in me. ”

“ Bellamy. I suppose they must go to some other friend whose address they do know.”
He put this suggestion before them, and learned that they did not know any friends in London, except some one at Hampstead, and they didn’t know more definitely where she lived.
He decided at last in despair that the foundlings must spend the night at a friendly hotel, and he broke it to them. It was obvious that he had thrown up the problem, and as the girls recognized it their discomfiture showed. Delia was the more restrained, but she was manifestly agitated, and Marjorie was frankly on the border of tears. ”

“ But come, my claws are cut. I can do no harm. I do not raven any longer. I can lie down with the lambs, and a little child may lead me.”
The white shadow seemed to shrink against the wall of the passage ”