"To her dressmaker, I suppose," said Mrs. Tregonell, trying to look indifferent.
"Don't be uneasy about me, Auntie," wrote Christabel: "I am going on an errand about which I made up my mind last night. I may be a little late for dinner—but as I shall go and return in the same cab, you may feel sure that I shall be quite safe. Don't wait dinner for me."
CHAPTER IX.
"LOVE IS LOVE FOR EVERMORE."
The Rosary, St. John's Wood: that was the address which Christabel had given the cabman. Had any less distinguished person than Stella Mayne lived at the Rosary it might have taken the cabman all the evening to find that particular house, with no more detailed address as to road and number. But a brother whip on a rank near Hamilton Terrace was able to tell Christabel's cabman the way to the Rosary. It was a house at which hansoms were often wanted at unholy hours between midnight and sunrise—a house whose chief hospitality took the form of chablis and oysters after the play—a house which seldom questioned poor cabby's claim or went closely into mileage—a house which deserved and commanded respectful mention on the rank.
"The Rosary—yes, that's where Miss Mayne lives. Beech Tree Road—a low 'ouse with veranders all round—yer can't miss it."
The cabman rattled away to Grove End Road, and thence to the superior quietude and seclusion of Beech Tree Road, where he drew up at a house with a glazed entrance. He rang the bell, and Christabel alighted before the summons was answered.
"Is Miss Mayne at home?" she asked a servant in plain clothes—a servant of unquestionable respectability.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and preceded her along a corridor, glass-roofed, richly carpeted, and with a bank of hot-house flowers on either side.