When Dudley got back he found Hal waiting up for him, with an expression of shining eagerness on her face.
"Oh, Dudley, such fun!" she began, "Lorraine has got the royal box for me for Thursday evening. We must have a little dinner-party. Who shal we take? It holds four comfortably, and two men could stand at the back."
"Thursday evening!" looking a little taken aback. "I am engaged."
"Engaged! Well, you must put it off. Why didn't you tel me? I thought you said you had any night free except Friday."
"I only made the engagement this evening."
"Are you going to see Basil again? He won't mind being put off."
"No. It isn't Basil."
"What then?"
Dudley turned away, threw his gloves carelessly down on a sidetable, and picked up some letters.
"I asked Doris to go to the White City with me."
"You... you asked Doris to go to the White City?... " she repeated incredulously. "What in the world for?"
"To see it, of course. What else should I ask her for?"
"Oh, Heaven only knows! Why ask her at al ? I should certainly upset her into the canal from sheer irritation if she came with me."
"Such nonsense." He knit his forehead into a decided frown. "You are so unfair to Doris. You used to complain that I was unfair to Lorraine. I was never as unfair as you are now. You don't really know Doris at al ; and she has never done anything to hurt you."
"It doesn't fol ow that she wouldn't if she had the chance. You're so awful y dense about women, Dudley. Why didn't you invite Ethel instead? She is worth a hundred Dorises. Then we could have taken her to the theatre."
His voice and manner grew very cold.
"I don't agree with you, but it is not a subject I care to discuss. Is there any reason why Doris should not be invited to the theatre?"
"None whatever, except that I don't propose to ask her."
They faced each other a moment almost angrily, except that whereas Dudley was distinctly vexed, Hal was a little scornful, and half-laughing.
"Then I cannot come either, and" - he paused a moment, to add with decision - "I object to your going unchaperoned."
"Do you mean that you wish me to give up the box?"
"You know what I mean."
Hal was thoughtful a moment, and then remarked with sudden glee:
"I know what I'll do. I'll take the Three Graces, and persuade Quin's aunt to come as chaperone. Then we'll al have supper with Lorraine afterwards. You shal have a nice, quiet, interesting evening with Doris, and I'll get two stalls for you for another night."
She moved about, gathering up her things.
"You don't know Quin's aunt, Lady Bounce, do you? She's the dearest old soul, and she loves a theatre. Night-night, old boy; don't keep Doris too long near the canal, in case you are taken with my inclination"; and she went gaily off, humming a popular air.
Dudley read through his letters without grasping any of their contents.
For the first time Hal's attitude to Doris seriously worried him, and he felt vaguely there was trouble ahead.
But when Thursday came, and they were together, she again had the same pleasing effect upon his senses, and he let himself be persuaded that if Hal grew to know her better, she could not choose but grow fond of her.
In the meantime a group in the royal box at the Greenway Theatre was causing no smal interest to a crowded house.
There was Hal, with her smart, wel -groomed air, gleaming white neck and arms, and her white, even teeth that looked so attractive even in the distance when she smiled.
Dick Bruce, spruce and scholarly, hugely pleased with himself, because he had an article in _The National Review_, on the strenght of the colonies in war time; and some lines entitled "Baby's Boredom" in _Fireside Chat_, concerning which he had already announced his intention of standing the champagne for their supper with the cheque.
Of the other two occupants it would be difficult to say which attracted the most attention. Alymer Hermon, with his immense stature and splendid head, or Quin's aunt, Lady Bounce, who presented so striking a resemblance to another well-known little old lady sometimes seen at the theatre, that friends of the last-mentioned were utterly puzzled.
Surely only one little lady in London wore that early Victorian dress, with the ringlets and "grande dame" air, and sat with such genuine delight and enjoyment through a play? And yet why did she not look out for her numerous friends, down there in the stalls, and recognise them?
And who in the world was she with? If that were indeed Lady Phyllis Fenton - and it seemed incredible it should not be - who was the splendid young giant, and who the white-faced girl with the brilliant smile?
And al the time, absorbed in the play and her companions, the little old lady smiled and talked, calmly indifferent to the many eyes below waiting for the expected bow of recognition.
Quin, apparently, had not been wil ing to desert his slummers for a gay West-end theatre; so Hal was only escorted by two Graces instead of three, but the light in her eyes, for any one near enough to see, suggested she was enjoying herself to the utmost in spite of it.
Then came the final sensation, of the little old lady in her strange costume and ringlets, passing through the vestibule, on the arm of the young giant, fol owed by the sleek-looking, wel -groomed pair of cousins, who chatted to each other with an air of the utmost unconcern towards the curious glances now levelled at them upon al sides.
"It _must_ be Lady Phyllis Fenton," said some. "It _can't_ be," said others. "Then who the devil is it?" asked the men.
And stil the little group passed on, smiling and unconcerned, though a red spot burned in the giant's smooth cheeks, and he carefully avoided any possibility of meeting Hal's gleaming eyes.
A roomy electric brougham was awaiting them, and then the watchers said it glided away: "Surely that is Lady Phyllis's car and liveries?"
But what they would have made of the scene inside the car it is difficult to say, for the dear little old lady suddenly col apsed backwards on her seat, with a howl of laughter, and shot into the air a pair of trousered legs.
"Oh my conscience!" gasped Quin, amid choking laughter. "It will be the sensation of the season; and when Aunt Phyllis gets to hear about it she'll first have a fit with wrath and then laugh until she's il ."
"I'd no idea you were such an actor, Quin," Hal exclaimed admiringly when she could speak; "you ought be holding crowded houses enthralled, instead of slumming."
"Heaven preserve me. Theatres are mostly mummies looking at mummies.
Down east I get in touch with flesh and blood - the real thing; and I prefer it. But I wouldn't have missed to-night for something. Oh, lord!... just think of the people who know Aunt Phyllis that I must have cut; and all the fuss there wil be when aunt is admonished for supping at the Savoy with an actress! We aren't half through the fun yet."
With which they all went off into fresh peals of laughter, at various reminiscences, and were bordering upon a condition of imbecility when Lorraine at last joined them with the latest news.
""It's positively immense," she said. "The manager told me Lady Phyllis Fenton had come with Miss Pritchard, and to-morrow every paper wil announce it, and the mystery wil grow. I 'phoned for a private room at the Savoy, to keep the puzzle up. She must only be seen passing through on Mr. Hermon's arm. How splendid they must look. I almost wish I wasn't in the secret."
"Oh, they do!" Hal cried. "Alymer ought to have had knee breeches and silk stockings, and they would look just perfect. I have to talk fast to Dick, or I should give it al away in my face."
"You'll have to settle with your aunt," Lorraine laughed to Quin. "I hope she won't cut you off with a shil ing."
"She will be furiously angry and terrifically interested," he said. "I expect I shall have to take you al to dinner to show her what the party looked like. Of course, Bonne, her maid, will give it away, because I borrowed the garments from her, and said they were for a play I was getting up in the East End."
"You'll have a bad half-hour with Dudley," Dick remarked to Hal, with enjoyment. "He is sure to hear of it somewhere."
"Quite sure," resignedly; "but if it were a bad two hours it would still have been worth it. It reminds me of the old days at school, Lorraine, when we used to get into scrapes on purpose, if the fun made it worth while."
There was no gayer supper party in the Savoy that night, and the champagne paid for with the proceeds of "Baby's Boredom" proved none the less vivifying for the insipidity of its source. Dick insisted upon reciting his doggerel, and Quin was not only much toasted as "Lady Bounce", but carried kicking round the room by the giant, because in a moment of forgetfulness he used a swear-word, which they al insisted was a reflecton upon the conversation of his illustrious aunt.
Lorraine, in most amusing form herself, laughed until she was tired out, and wondered why she was not bored. She asked the question of Alymer Hermon, who was privileged to see her home, while Dick returned with Hal, and Quin beat a hasty retreat to get rid of his disguise.
"After all, you are only boys," she said, with a little smile, "and I'm... wel , I'm Lorraine Vivian."
The giant gazed thoughtfully out of the brougham window a moment, and from her corner Lorraine looked long, and a little sadly, at the finely model ed head and profile.
"Perhaps," he said at length, "a great many people you meet make a special effort to please you, and try to make an impression on you. We being all so young, and just nobodies, realise the uselessness of wasting our efforts, and are merely natural."
She smiled in the shadow, and glanced away from him with the sadness deepening.
"I feel to-night I should like to be one of you - so young and just nobody. It would be a pleasant change."
"I don't think you would like it at al ."
He looked at her with a slightly puzzled air.
"Only the other day you were speaking to me of achievement and ambition. You seemed to care so much. You must be glad."
"Oh yes, yes," wearily; "but it isn't enough by itself. There is something I have missed, and to-night I feel that it might outweight all the rest - something to do with being young, and careless, and fresh, and just nobody."
Stil looking at her with slightly puzzled, very kindly eyes, he answered simply, "I'm so sorry."
She seemed to shrink away suddenly into her corner. The very simplicity of his sympathy, and the quiet, natural friendliness in his face, stirred some strange chord in her heart with a swift, unaccountable ache. He looked so big and strong and splendid there in the shadow, with his freshness and his charm; and she felt very brain-fagged and world-weary; and without in the least knowing why, or what led up to the desire, she wanted to feel his arms about her, and his freshness soothing her spirit.
And instead he was not even attempting to make love to her, not even flirting with her. Would any other man she knew have ridden beside her thus after the gentleness she had shown? Was that perhaps the very secret of his attraction? Or was it a physical allurement - the irresistible charm of bigness and strength, independent of anything else, drawing with its time-old sway?
She had no time to probe further, as the brougham stopped at her door.
He handed her out with the deference so often met with in big men, remarking width an old-fashioned air that suited him to perfection:
"I'm afraid we have all tired you very much. It was good of you to come with us. I can't tell you how much we appreciate it."
"Oh, indeed no; you refreshed me. Good-night. Stevens will run you home. Don't forget Sunday", and she moved away.
"It must be his bigness," was her last thought as her head touched the pil ow. "When I am used to it, no doubt the novelty will pass, and I shal find him merely boyish, and be rather bored."
"I wonder if it is her dainty smal ness," Dudley was musing, away in his Bloomsbury lodging, feeling still, with a pleasant thril , the touch of Doris's smal hand on his arm, and seeing again the upward, confiding expression in her wide blue eyes. "Odd that Hal should be so far astray in her judgment, when she is usual y so clever; but if she knew her better she would change her mind."
As for Hal herself, she hastily tumbled into bed, stil chuckling in huge enjoyment over her evening.
"Those boys are just dears," was her thought, "and I wouldn't have missed Lady Bounce for the world. What a good thing Dudley was taken with paternal affection for that little fool Doris, and I had to have a chaperone. Heigh-ho! what a scene there will be if he hears about it; but what's the odds so long as you're happy? And oh dear! what wil Lady Phyllis Fenton say when she finds out"; and once more the even teeth flashed an irresistible smile into the darkness.