That it had not died became evident in the rather reserved farewells which Lucy made to Jerry, her hostess, and several of the girls. Among them was Marjorie who wondered a little at the other girl’s chilly demeanor. Earlier in the evening Lucy had been radiant. Always charitable in thought, Marjorie laid it to the fact that Lucy was perhaps a trifle tired. Yet the almost hostile stare of her peculiarly-colored eyes haunted Marjorie for the remainder of the evening.
Twelve o’clock marked the wind-up of the Hallowe’en party. By a quarter after that hour the young revelers had begun to troop down the front steps of the house, their gay good nights echoing on the still air. Greatly to her joy, Lawrence Armitage dutifully inquired of Mignon if her runabout were parked outside, or if she expected the La Salle’s chauffeur to come for her. On replying that her chauffeur would be waiting at the gate with the runabout, she was even better pleased to hear him politely announce his wish to see her safely to it.
Mignon was doubly elated by the fact that Constance and Marjorie were directly behind her. Mr. Dean had come to take both girls home, as Constance was following her usual after-party custom of spending the night with Marjorie. The French girl was quite ready to set up an out-cry over the non-appearance of her runabout. She was anxious that Constance in particular should see her calmly appropriate both Laurie and his roadster.
Her black eyes blazed with triumph as she surveyed the little row of automobiles which stretched itself along a portion of the street in front of the Macys’ residence. Her runabout was not among them.
“Why, where is my car?” she cried out in well-simulated dismay. “Isn’t that provoking? That stupid William has misunderstood that he was to come for me. It’s just like him to make such a mistake! What am I to do?” Mignon rolled appealing eyes at Laurie.
Sheer vexation sealed Laurie’s lips for an instant. He knew only too well what courtesy demanded him to do, and he rebelled at the thought. Mignon’s loud outcry had already attracted the attention of a group of guests who stood surrounding Hal and Jerry Macy. The young host and hostess had strolled to the gate with their friends to wish them a last good night. Every pair of eyes was now centered on Mignon.
Drawing a long breath, Laurie reluctantly came to the French girl’s rescue. “I will take you home——” he began with polite aloofness.
“There comes your runabout, Mignon,” called Muriel Harding sweetly. Her alert eyes had spied it as, with William at the wheel, it passed under the arc light and made rapid approach.
Muriel’s announcement elicited no response from Mignon. She stood motionless on the walk, her gaze fixed fiercely upon the undependable William as he turned the runabout and halted it just ahead of the other cars. Under the glare of the gate lights the varying expressions of her stormy face told their own story. With the realization of defeat came the need for instant action. William was already moving toward the group of young folks. He was looking for her. She must intercept him before he came too close to them.
Electrified by the fear of exposure, she darted toward the chauffeur, who, glimpsing his charge, strode forward. She was just a second too late. “I got your ’phone message not to come for you, Miss Mignon,” he boomed mercilessly, “but your father just got home and he says that I was to drive over after you just the same.”