“Oh, no, I’m quite all right. But if you’ve come about buying Cypress Hill, it’s no use. I have no intention of selling it as long as I live.”
Mrs. Harrison sat down once more. “It’s not that,” she said. “It’s other business.” And then turning. “You know Judge Weissman, of course.”
The Judge gave a obsequious bow. From the manner of his hostess, it was clear that she did not know him, that indeed thousands of introductions could never induce her to know him.
“Won’t you sit down?” she said with a cold politeness, and the Judge settled himself into an easy chair, collapsing vaguely into rolls of fat.
“We should like to talk with you alone,” said Mrs. Harrison. “If Lily could leave....” And she finished the speech with a nod of the head and a turn of the eye meant to convey a sense of grave mystery.
“Certainly,” replied Lily, and went out closing the door on her mother and the two visitors.
For two hours they remained closeted in the library while Lily wandered about the house, writing notes, playing on the piano; and once, unable to restrain her curiosity, listening on tip-toe outside the library door. At the end of that time, the door opened and there emerged Mrs. Julis Harrison, looking cold and massively dignified, her gold chain swinging more than usual, Judge Weissman, very red and very angry, and last of all, Julia Shane, her old eyes lighted by a strange new spark and her thin lips framed in an ironic smile of triumph.
The carriage appeared and the two visitors climbed in and were driven away on sagging springs across the soot-covered snow. When they had gone, the mother summoned Lily into the library, closed the door and then sat down, her thin smile growing at the same time into a wicked chuckle.
“They’ve been caught ... the pair of them,” she said. “And Cousin Charlie did it.... They’ve been trying to get me to call him off.”
Lily regarded her mother with eyebrows drawn together in a little frown. Plainly she was puzzled. “But how Cousin Charlie?” she asked. “How has he caught them?”