Roger Sands' heart had been hard toward his wife when they met. He had settled upon a policy of silence for the present, while in self-protection he watched developments. He agreed quietly to Beverley's request that he should fetch the pearl-stringer, though feeling a cold, sick certainty of her motive in making it.
He went, as he had given his word that he would go, to 27 Elm Street, Yonkers. Miss Blackburne herself answered his ring: and when the name of Clo Riley was mentioned, she said at once that she would accompany Mr. Sands. Roger was kept waiting only while Miss Blackburne took leave of her mother, gathered together her materials, and packed a small bag; for it was clear that, if the pearl-stringer were to finish her work in one sitting, she would have to spend the night in Park Avenue.
The little woman, whose face seemed almost featureless to Roger Sands, was interested in the man as well as in the mission. The pearl-stringer had often heard of him in various ways; and her work took her into a set who knew, or gossiped, about his private affairs. She had listened to women's talk concerning Mrs. Sands, "the girl from nowhere," and, though Miss Blackburne was "good as gold," she did enjoy a little spicy scandal. She could in future make herself quite interesting to some of her regular clients by telling how she had worked for Mrs. Roger Sands; and not only for their sakes, but her own, did she look forward to this "job."
Secretly, Ellen Blackburne planned some day to write a volume of reminiscences, and she had a "feeling," as she sat in discreet silence beside Roger Sands in his car, that to-night she would get material for particularly good notes. She was conscious that his nerves were tensely strung. "It's just as if he were sitting in a thunder cloud charged full of electricity, with me getting some of the shocks," she told herself, thinking of her notebook, where she would make entries when she got home.
It was nearly a quarter past eight when Roger's latch-key opened the door of his apartment. Miss Blackburne was impressed, not only by the magnificence of the hall, but by the originality of its decoration.
Roger, having let himself and the pearl-stringer in with his latch-key, regretted that he had done so. He did not want to see Beverley alone just then. It would be better to have her summoned by a servant. Miss Blackburne was too observant of tiny details not to notice that he stepped back and pushed the electric bell outside the door, which he had not yet closed. And when he said to the butler: "Please tell Mrs. Sands that I have been able to bring back Miss Blackburne," the small student of character guessed at once that he wished to avoid meeting his wife.
The hall was large, and furnished like an extra drawing-room, therefore it was not inhospitable that Roger should leave the pearl-stringer alone there, with the excuse that he must dress for dinner. He was, he explained, going to his club. As he made this announcement, however, and before the butler could carry the message to Mrs. Sands, a dazzling vision appeared. It could be no other, Miss Blackburne felt, than Mrs. Sands herself; and she was right, for Beverley had dressed with unusual speed, yet with unwonted pains, in order to be ready for Roger's return.
The vision came into the hall before the butler had been able to deliver the message, and his wife's arrival whilst the man was present gave Roger an opportunity he would not miss. There was a question he wished to ask the old servant, in Beverley's hearing, but he had not expected the chance to come so soon. The butler retreated, stepping aside respectfully to let Mrs. Sands pass. But before the man could efface himself, and before greeting Beverley, Roger exclaimed, "Oh, by the by, Johnson, has any one been here since I went out?"
"Yes, sir," the butler replied, "one gentleman has been. He——"
But the vision intervened. "The gentleman wasn't a visitor, Johnson," she said, a sharp note in her voice, almost an agonized note. "You ought to explain to Mr. Sands that he came only to bring Miss Riley home." Then she hurried on, snatching the explanation from the servant's mouth, though she had ordered him to make it: "The poor child came back quite done up, nearly fainting. She had to be helped in, almost carried. The man stayed just long enough to hear that she was better. Is it Miss Blackburne you've been lucky enough to find, and bring back to me?"