At dusk when Betty descended the stairs she discovered a man standing in the shadowed doorway of the drawing-room. At first she though it was Wolvert, but a second glance showed that the intruder was of more slender build and younger, and his face seemed overspread with an unhealthy greenish pallor.
He stood motionless staring glassily at her and when she was half way down he stepped forward.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" His high-pitched quavering voice shrilled just as the firelight fell full upon his face, and Betty recognized him at once. It was the pale, overdressed, foppish youth of the dinner party on the night when Wolvert had uttered his strange toast.
"Mr. Ide! Don't you remember me? I am Mrs. Atterbury's companion."
"Oh—er—of course! Stupid of me, but my nerves are a bit on edge and seeing you so suddenly in the half-light—"
His voice trailed off into silence and he still stood with his eyes fixed in wondering perplexity on her face.
"It was a natural mistake, Mr. Ide. You are waiting for Mrs. Atterbury? I will go to her—"
"Thank you, Welch has taken my message." He spoke as if dazed. "It is extraordinary, but do you know I fancied for a moment that you were someone else? There was something about you, Miss—Miss—"
"My name is Betty Shaw," the girl interrupted quietly. "I happen to be of quite a usual type, I believe, except for this birthmark on my cheek. I have powdered it over tonight, so it is no wonder you did not recognize me at once. No doubt Mrs. Atterbury will be down in a few minutes."
She nodded and turning abruptly entered the library, leaving the young man gazing after her with vacant eyes, and jaws agape.