"He's up to some mischief," persisted the old maid, "and I'd like to find out what it is. He is supposed to be keeping his room, because of a cold, and I find he is not in. People with colds," added the lady, impressively, "do not go into the night air."
"How do you know Major Tidman has?"
"Because he would be at the ball, were he in the hotel. I shall ask Clarence to see what he is doing."
"Why?" asked Miss Wharf, puzzled.
"Because--oh, just because," replied Miss Pewsey, tossing her head in a sharp way, like the Red Queen in Alice's Adventures. "But the fan, dearest Sophia?--Can't I take charge of it?"
Miss Wharf grasped the fan tighter. "No, certainly not. It is worth five thousand pounds."
"And perhaps more," said Miss Pewsey. "Remember, dearest Sophia, that is the sum offered, but you might ask more. It is very important that this Mandarin should get the fan back. Dr. Forge told me."
"Why is it important?"
"Theophilus didn't tell me that, but he said that this Mandarin--I quite forget his queer name--would give even more than five thousand to get it back."
"His emissary didn't seem very anxious to buy."