“Bah, it is a very small enemy who seeks small revenge,” said the Swami, whose own heart was filled with contempt and irritation. This was not according to his plan. “In India, we do not so revenge.”
Mr. Lenox stepped back to the fireplace, from which point a man always surveys the world at an advantage.
“It isn’t worth an extra heart-beat, Miss Elton,” he said. “Ignore it and your world will promptly forget it.”
“But, Mr. Lenox, you do not understand. It is not the question of the truth or falsehood of the story that shakes me. As you say, that is too absurd. But I shall always wonder who is my enemy, and why.”
Norris was looking at her with awakened terror. With the intuition of love, he had read the processes of her self-conquest at the time of Dick’s marriage. But here was a new possibility. Could it be that this fair and delicate creature was now to be enwoofed by Sebastian Early, whom at this juncture Ellery characterized to himself as a “fat toad”? He made up his mind that it would not do to trust, as he had been doing, to time to stand his friend. He must also bestir himself.
“I wonder,” he said aloud, “I wonder if Miss Huntress knows anything about it. I have a dim idea that some one told me that she wrote things for the Chatterer. Our society editor, you know.”
“But even if she did dislike me—and I don’t know her from Adam—how could she know?” said Madeline, turning on him. “You see I was alone with Mr. Early, and I am sure, for certain reasons,” here Ellery was horrified to see a little flush creeping over her face, “that he would not be guilty of any attempt to besmirch me. And no one else knew that I was there—except—” A sudden startled look came over her face and she looked involuntarily at Dick. “Except—” she said, and her voice trailed off.
“Besides, these small acts are those of women,” said the Swami placidly. Dick had caught Madeline’s look of astonished comprehension and he turned pale as he saw. Now, with Ram Juna’s words, conviction flashed upon him. He remembered Lena’s dislike for Madeline, of which he had made light; he remembered the little insignificant woman whom he had met in his wife’s boudoir; the fact that he was Mr. Early’s nearest neighbor clapped assurance on suspicion, and his muddled mind was capable of only one idea. No one else, least of all, Madeline, must suspect her little meanness.
“Dick, you have an inkling,” said Mr. Lenox abruptly, but in all innocence.
“Not in the least,” said Dick hurriedly. “I assure you that if I had the slightest reason to suspect any one, I would be the first to speak. I—you know I think everything of you, Madeline.” He went toward her in a futile way, with outstretched hand, but Madeline’s eyes were down, and apparently she did not see the friendly overture. His face looked pale, strained and old as he stood for a moment before her, and the others surveyed them in silence.