“Do come in, Lucian!” said his wife. “Mandeville was just speaking of Miss La Chêne.”
“Th-that’s queer!” cried Robinson, with very strained geniality. “Dashed queer! Because I—”
“Because you were just thinking about her?” his wife inquired pleasantly.
“N-no,” said he; “but—but—but—the thing is, I got thinking about that b-bracelet, and—well!” From his pocket he pulled a velvet case. “H-here it is!” he said. “I found it in your room at the—”
He stopped, stricken with horror by the[Pg 202] expression on his wife’s face. She rose. She opened the door into Mrs. Milner’s bedroom.
“Miss La Chêne!” she said. “Kindly come here! Perhaps you can explain this!”
In came Miss La Chêne. Her face bore the marks of recent tears, but she looked not at all abashed or humbled. On the contrary, she held her little head mighty high.
“You see,” Mrs. Robinson said to her, “both these gentlemen found my bracelet in the room at the hotel. Doesn’t that seem rather strange?” She turned toward her husband. “Because,” she went on, “I telephoned to Miss La Chêne this morning, to tell her that I had found it myself, in my bureau drawer.”
Silence.
“I wanted to apologize to Miss La Chêne,” Sheila continued. “I thought she might be feeling badly about it. I didn’t know how many people there were to look after her and defend her. Mandeville and Lucian—Mandeville I can understand, but why you should take it upon yourself, Lucian, to shield this girl before you knew whether or not—”