"Miss Galloway sent me a message by a district boy. The idea was that I was to try and see her without delay, and go on playing my part until we could resume our respective personalities. Without some further coaching such a thing was impossible. I took Dr. Varney into my confidence, and he gave me a permit to see Vera Galloway to-night. I am here at considerable risk, as you understand, though I have prepared for my return to Merehaven House. Ah, she has failed."
The countess was standing up and gesticulating wildly before the little man in the gold-rimmed glasses. He seemed to be profoundly sorry, but he was quite firm. He signalled the porter, who opened one of the big glass doors and signified that the countess could depart.
"Even her fascinations have failed," Jessie said. "Please let me go, Mr. Maxwell. If I am recognized now everything is ruined. And you had better not be seen, either."
"Every word that you say is replete with wisdom," Maxwell said. "One moment. I must see you again to-night and know how things are going. Will you meet me in an hour's time in the garden at the back of Merehaven House? Don't say no."
"If it can possibly be managed," said Jessie. "Now I must go. You had better get into the shadow across the road. I feel that all is going to be well yet."
Maxwell lounged away, and Jessie passed quickly along as the countess came down the steps and stepped into her brougham. Jessie waited to see the flashing equipage drive away before she turned again and in her turn mounted the steps of the hospital.
Jessie boldly demanded to see a patient named Harcourt, and thrust her permit into the porter's hand. He looked a little suspicious over this fuss about a mere patient, but the name on the permit had its force, and presently Jessie found herself entering one of the wards under the charge of a nurse. The nurse glanced at Jessie's half-concealed face, and came to the natural conclusion that here was a sister of the latest accident case. Under the circumstances, she had no hesitation in leaving Jessie and Vera Galloway together.
"Thank Heaven you have come!" Vera whispered. "No, there is not much the matter. I suppose I must have fainted at the shock and the pain, but the doctor says I shall be out in two or three days at the outside. It is a case of bruised tendons more than anything else. You dear, brave girl!"
The dear, brave girl forced a smile to her lips. All the same, the prospect was alarming. It was one thing to carry this imposture through for an hour or two, but quite another to keep the comedy going for some days longer. But audacity carries such things through.
"Tell me everything that has happened," Vera went on. "Don't let us dwell on this cruel misfortune. Everything seemed going so well when that wretched cab came along. Perhaps I was dazed by my success. I know that I was shaking from head to foot ... but that mattered to nobody but myself. Tell me."