“Yes, I saw what a good face you put on it when the reporters insisted on knowing everything you knew, or guessed, or could make up. I’m grateful to you, Miss Marne, for the very sensible stand you took. You showed sense and prudence and did all that you could to stop that absurd fuss. If I should happen to go away again unexpectedly,—” he hesitated, wincing ever so little, but quickly went on: “My deal fell through this time, but I may have to go again, although I hope not, for it’s a beastly journey. But if I should, and there should be any disturbance about it, you can say frankly that I’ve gone to look at some land in the West Virginia mountains, away off the railroad, so that it is impossible to get hold of me until I return to civilization again.”
He stopped for a moment, as though turning something over in his mind. “But I don’t want to say just where it is,” he proceeded cautiously, “because I don’t want certain parties to know that I am after this property. And if I don’t tell you where it is,” and he turned toward her with a pleasant smile and the caressing look in his soft brown eyes that had so much power to stir feminine hearts, “you can truthfully say, if you are asked, that you don’t know where I am or how I can be reached.”
“How considerate of me he always is,” thought Henrietta as she thanked him.
It was not until she had gone through the accumulation of mail with him and had explained to him all that she had done during his absence that he mentioned Hugh Gordon. Then he merely asked, with some hesitation at the name, as though he could with difficulty bring himself to speak it, if no letter had come from him.
“Yes,” she replied, unlocking a drawer and taking out a bulky envelope, “this came yesterday, but I guessed that it was from him and so did not open it.”
Brand’s dark, handsome face turned a trifle paler and his hand trembled as he thrust the letter quickly into his breast pocket.
When the newspapermen came to ask if there were yet any news of him Brand saw them in his own room. He said nothing to Henrietta about the charges made against him by the investigating committee, but in the evening papers and again in those of the next morning she read his defense.
He knew Mr. Flaherty, knew him quite well, he told the reporters, and had had business dealings with him. Mr. Flaherty had advised him about several investments he had thought of making and had helped him in getting some out-of-the-way information concerning them. He had been impressed by the shrewdness of Mr. Flaherty’s judgment in these matters, had relied on him a good deal and, altogether, had felt under so much obligation to him that when, after a while, he put a considerable sum of money into Mr. Flaherty’s hands for investment, he had insisted upon the politician’s taking a more liberal commission than was customary. His idea had been to show his appreciation and relieve himself from any entanglement or obligation. If Mr. Flaherty had chosen to consider it a bribe, he, Felix Brand, could hardly be held responsible for another’s idiosyncrasies.
Yes, he had talked with Mr. Flaherty about the municipal art commission and quite possibly had said, in some such conversation, that he would like to be a member of that body because of certain desirable things which it could do, if it would make the effort, for the city’s benefit.