CHAPTER XIII
Grace Duvall went to her room, at Dr. Hartmann's, after her husband's departure, her feelings divided between her joy at his success—for she felt that his departure with Seltz meant success—and her sorrow at seeing him leave her, without so much as a single glance. She felt certain that she would hear from him during the course of the afternoon, and after eating her luncheon, sat down to read a book.
The afternoon seemed interminable. When at last she could bear the inaction no longer, she rose, put on her hat, and started down the stairs. As she reached the hall, one of the attendants came up to her. "Someone wishes to speak to you at the telephone, Miss Ellicott," the woman said.
Grace hurried to the 'phone, which was placed in a small recess half-way down the hall. The woman accompanied her, and stood near by as she took up the receiver. Clearly she was listening. Grace determined to speak with caution. It was undoubtedly Richard calling.
When she at last made out that it was the American Minister, Mr. Phelps, who was speaking, she felt a keen sense of disappointment. She learned that he and his wife wished her to come in and dine with them. At first she refused, fearful least by going into Brussels she might miss some word from Richard. Mr. Phelps was insistent. They counted on her. He would not take a denial. The thought occurred to her, momentarily, that possibly Richard had taken this means of communicating with her. The idea seemed far fetched, and yet—she heard Mr. Phelps' voice, urging her to come, and rather half-heartedly she agreed to do so. "The United States Minister, Mr. Phelps, and his wife, have asked me to dine with them to-night," she said to the attendant. "Will you be so good as to have a cab here for me at half-past seven?"
The woman bowed. "Certainly, mademoiselle," she said, and moved aside as Dr. Hartmann came along the hall.
Grace thought that he looked both puzzled and angry. He assumed a pleasant expression as he saw her, however, and when he spoke she knew he had overheard what she had just said. "Dining at the Minister's to-night?" he remarked, as he paused for a moment. "A charming man, Mr. Phelps. I may look in later, myself, and bring you home." He passed on, his face at once resuming the angry scowl which Grace had marked as he approached her.
She returned to her room, and began her toilette for the evening. The small trunk she had brought from Paris contained but a limited wardrobe—she had not expected anything in the way of social engagements, in this work that Monsieur Lefevre had assigned to her. A gown of black satin, however, trimmed with silver, she had put in at the last moment. It was very becoming—Richard had never seen her in it—she hoped he might come to her, before the evening was over. She half-made up her mind to speak to Mr. Phelps about it—to ask him to telephone to the hotels and attempt to locate Richard for her. Then the thought came to her that she had represented herself to the Minister as Miss Ellicott. Clearly it would never do to let Mr. Phelps know that she had deceived him.
She arrived at the house early, and after being introduced to Mrs. Phelps, went to the latter's room to remove her wraps, and to talk over their mutual acquaintances. None of the other guests had as yet arrived. Grace talked to Mrs. Phelps as brightly as she could, but her mind was intent upon Richard, and she wondered when and how she would hear from him.
Duvall, meanwhile, had been engaged in changing his clothes. When he at last put on the white waistcoat of his evening suit, he took up the one he had worn during the day and removed from it the ivory snuff box which had been the cause of his interrupted honeymoon. He glanced at the thing carelessly, before placing it in his waistcoat pocket, and as he did so, he fancied he detected a slight noise in the corridor without. In a moment he had thrown open the door which led to the hall. A man—evidently one of the hotel servants—was just rising from his knees, a small brush in one hand, a dust pan in the other.