“The Admiral and I shall be delighted to have them,” Mrs. Weston answered—“Will they also go with us to the tea? No? Well, then, to-night.”
Macloud and Croyden accompanied them to the Academy gates, and then returned to the hotel.
In the narrow passage between the news-desk and the office, they bumped, inadvertently, into two men. There were mutual excuses, and the men went on.
An hour or so later, Macloud, having changed into his evening clothes, came into Croyden’s room and found him down on his knees looking under the bureau, and swearing vigorously.
“Whee!” he said; “you are a true pirate’s heir! Old Parmenter, himself, couldn’t do it better. What’s the matter—lose something?”
“No, I didn’t lose anything!” said Croyden sarcastically. “I’m saying my prayers.”
“And incidentally searching for this, I suppose?” picking up a pearl stud from under the bed. 122
Croyden took it without a word.
“And when you’ve sufficiently recovered your equanimity,” Macloud went on, “you might let me see the aforesaid Parmenter’s letter. I want to cogitate over it.”
“It’s in my wallet!” grinding in the stud—“my coat’s on the chair, yonder.”