As for Forsyth, Sybil deserted him entirely; and as the other ladies abstained from discussing personal topics before the unpopular guest, there had been no making known beyond the small circle who knew it already of the new secretary's engagement to his employer's cousin. Singularly enough, this was one of the very few subjects which the girl did not touch upon in her confidences to her new friend.
Presently the importunities of the Duke, backed by a general murmur of request, prevailed, and Leonie began a quaint old melody in a clear contralto that at any other time would have held Sybil an enthralled listener. As it was, she took instant advantage of the rippling flood of sound that filled the room to resume her talk, though for the moment the continuity was not apparent.
"Beaumanoir House was burgled the other night, and we caught a man trying to get into my cousin's bedroom," she whispered.
"No. Really? I—I saw nothing in the papers," replied Mrs. Talmage Eglinton in even tones, but with another turn of the white shoulders and a sudden shading of her eyes the better to watch the fair narrator's face.
"That was because the Duke let the man go—didn't want any fuss just after coming into the title; and quite reasonable, I call it," Sybil proceeded. "And that's where the fun comes in. Mr. Forsyth insists that my cousin is the proposed victim of some diabolical plot, anarchist or otherwise, and he took General Sadgrove into his confidence. The old gentleman, as you may not be aware, was a sort of policeman in India, and is cracked on finding out things. Naturally, to one of that temperament, the mystery Mr. Forsyth chose to make out of a vulgar attempt at robbery was like a spark on tinder, and the General caught on at once. They're both fairly on the job—as amateur detectives, you know—and they think they've got a clue."
"How truly interesting! And the clue?"
"Of the most remote kind—not even arrived at, à la Sherlock Holmes, by inspecting cigarette ashes. It seems that Mr. Forsyth—who, by the way, had been to leave a card on you—met the Duke at the Cecil, coming away from the suite of a Mr. Ziegler. He chose to think that my cousin was looking agitated, whereas he was only tired after his voyage. Mr. Ziegler, therefore, if you please, has fallen under the ban of suspicion from these wiseacres, and is supposed to be murderously inclined towards the poor Duke. Even the mischief of some wretched boy in playing tricks with the train he traveled by the other night is attributed to this probably harmless Mr. Ziegler."
"And his Grace—does he also attribute these things to the same quarter?" asked Mrs. Talmage Eglinton, scarcely with the breathless interest due to such tremendous doings. She had a way of opening her eyes wide when putting a question—a mannerism which had the effect of creating doubt whether she was intensely eager or only bored.
"He thinks it all nonsense—same as I do," Sybil made answer. "He has told these over-clever gentlemen to leave the thing alone, and I expect if he finds out what the General is up to that he'll turn them both out of the house and give Mr. Forsyth his dismissal. Of course, you won't say anything—will you?—because I'm only a poor relation, and I can't afford to offend people."
"I am discretion itself. What is General Sadgrove up to, dear?" was the reply.