“Have you no shame?” demanded Miss Grey of Maggie.
“Never mind that, ma’am,” said the captain; “let’s have the story first.”
Miss Grey cast an appealing glance at the ceiling, and began: “With my own ears I heard it. Mrs. Britson [Mrs. Britson was the fifth lady] will confirm what I say. With my own ears I heard Captain Petrie relate to Mr. Lester—to this person’s brother—that he had had an interview with this person when this person was entirely——” Miss Grey paused for a moment, gathered her courage, and added in an awestruck whisper, “disrobed.”
A shudder ran through the audience. The culprits’ faces expressed real or simulated astonishment.
“If I must put it plainly,” pursued Miss Grey—and at this several ladies opened their fans and held them before their faces—“Captain Petrie said that Miss Lester—that person—had nothing on, and that when he reminded her of it she stated that the circumstance was immaterial. Subsequently, at luncheon, the young woman herself admitted the fact in the hearing of Mrs. Britson. If that is not enough——”
It apparently was enough, for Charlie Lester threw himself into an armchair with a wild shriek of laughter. Maggie’s slight figure shook convulsively as she hid her face in her handkerchief, and Captain Petrie, after a moment’s blank amazement, cried out:
“By Jove! I’ve got it. Oh! this beats anything!” And he joined in with a loud guffaw.
“Is that the way you treat such a—an abominable——” began Miss Grey austerely.
“Oh, stop! for Heaven’s sake stop!” exclaimed the captain; “you’ll be the death of me, you really will!”
Silence followed for a moment, and the captain, conquering his mirth, went on: “I don’t know if any of you ladies go in for horse-racing. Probably not; I’m sure Miss Grey doesn’t. Well, this morning I heard that a horse of mine which is running in a race to-day had done an exceptionally and quite unexpectedly good trial—I mean, had proved a far faster runner than we had supposed. In fact, there was little doubt that he would win the race. Sometimes, ladies, I am wicked enough to bet. Occasionally Charlie Lester is equally wicked. Now and then Miss Lester yields to that vice. Well, as you know, we are far from a telegraph here; and we were much annoyed, Charlie and I, that we could not take advantage of our fresh information to bet on the horse—to put something on, as we say. Miss Lester regretted also, when I told her the news, that she had nothing on—the horse. Do you begin to understand, ladies?”