The Yellow Face

by Fred M. White

"But you don't suppose that Mr. Anstruther knows?" Claire asked. "You do not imagine for a moment that he is aware of the fact that Serena is Lady Barmouth's sister?"

"I hope to goodness no," Jack exclaimed. "But I don't see how the thing could be possible. To begin with, the sisters are not in the least alike, and in addition to this Serena had not the least idea that Lady Barmouth had married. What I am most afraid of now is that Anstruther should come back and discover those two women together."

"Claire nodded gravely, with one eye on the clock. It was only a matter of minutes now when Anstruther would return. He was dining at his club to-night, Claire explained, with Mr. Carrington, at eight o'clock, and as it was now a quarter past seven, there was not much time for him to dress and get back to St. James's Street again.

"In that case I must intrude myself upon those two ladies," Jack said firmly. "I will put Lady Barmouth in a cab and send her home. It will be quite easy for the sisters to arrange a meeting at Lady Barmouth's house. Keep Anstruther out of the dining-room if he comes in."

Jack strode resolutely across the hall, and placed the matter tersely and vigorously before the sisters. "It would never do," he explained, "for Anstruther to find you here at this moment."

Serena's eyes were swollen with weeping. There were the deep marks of tears upon her cheeks. Lady Barmouth's worldly training had stood her in better stead, but she also carried traces of emotion which could not be wiped out in a moment.

"I am going to put you in a cab at once," Jack said. "Anstruther may be here any instant, and you can imagine how necessary it is to keep him in the dark. Besides, you can easily arrange a meeting in a safer atmosphere than this."

With a brief remark to the effect that she would communicate with Serena again, Lady Barmouth left the room, and permitted Jack to escort her to a cab. The latter breathed more freely as the clatter of the horses' hoofs died away. He ran back quickly to the house again to give a few last words of instruction to Claire.

"You look all right now," he said, "but Serena's case is entirely different. Take my advice, and send her up to her room. If you are not going to dine in the proper sense of the word, there is no reason why Serena should appear again till Anstruther has gone to his club. And I will go, too; I don't want our worthy host to know that I have been here this evening."

Jack went off thoughtfully in the direction of the square. It was a particularly good-class neighborhood, and generally very quiet at this time of the evening. The half-hour past seven had just struck from a neighboring clock. In most of the dining-rooms on the north side of the square brilliant lights demonstrated the fact that folk were at dinner. With the exception of a solitary policeman nobody was in sight. As is usual with the majority of London squares, the place was none too well lighted, and there were just sufficient lamps to throw the shadows of the garden in deeper relief. It had often occurred to Jack how easy crime and violence would be in circumstances like these.