Lily sat waiting in the brilliantly lighted vestibule of the Hotel Hidalgo. In her grey chiffon evening gown, and charming black and white cloak, she looked a sufficiently arresting figure to cause many admiring eyes to turn towards her as people passed through on their way to the dining-room.
The party were to dine at seven sharp in order to be in good time for the gala performance at the Casino, and Lily had arrived about five minutes before the hour fixed; but now it was nearly half-past seven, and they were not yet back from their drive. She began to grow impatient.
Poor Lily! She did not feel particularly happy this evening. After the amusing and exciting days she had just gone through, to-day had dragged by dully and wearily, the only interlude being that unpleasant visit to Uncle Angelo’s odious acquaintance. She was glad indeed not to be dining at La Solitude to-night. The Dutchman’s manner had been so insultingly familiar till she had mentioned Uncle Tom’s nice friend, the Baron Van Voorst. Mr. Vissering was evidently an awful snob!
During the whole of the afternoon there had seemed to rest a heavy load of depression on the Lonely House. Aunt Cosy was impatient and restless, while Cristina, obviously ill at ease, kept sighing long, sad sighs. As for Count Polda, he had disappeared about four o’clock, to return a little before six laden with the costly makings of a luxurious cold supper. She, Lily, had helped Cristina to prepare the dining-room; then she had dressed, putting on for the first time her beautiful grey chiffon evening gown, and magpie cloak. But, alas! with no delightful little bag to match.
While waiting for the car which was to take her to the Hotel Hidalgo there had again been some discussion as to what time she would return that night.
“Understand, my little Lily, that I desire you to stay to the supper after the play. Beppo would be terribly disappointed if you did not do so!” So had said the Countess firmly, and Lily had answered, truthfully enough, that she would like very much to stay to supper. She had never been out to supper after a play, but many of her friends in England had sometimes talked as if the supper rather than the play was the most amusing part of an evening’s entertainment—and if amusing in London, how much more amusing at Monte Carlo!
At last a quaint-looking little man approached her, and, bowing low, observed: “Do I speak to Miss Fairfield?” And then he went on: “I have to tell you, Mademoiselle, that Count Beppo Polda and his party have had a breakdown in the mountains, forty miles away! The Count found a house where they allowed him to telephone, and the message has just come through. He is greatly distressed, and suggests that Mademoiselle should have a little dinner here, and that then we should arrange to send Mademoiselle home with one of our chambermaids. There is no hope of Count Beppo being in time for the gala performance to-night. I can dispose of the tickets, if you approve that I do so.”
Lily felt sharply disappointed. But she blessed Beppo for his kind thought. She was hungry as well as tired, and it would be such a comfort to have dinner here, at the Hotel Hidalgo, and then go back to La Solitude. If that odious Dutchman was still there she could slip up to her bedroom without going into the drawing-room, leaving Cristina to explain later to the Countess what had happened.
Conducted with ceremony by the manager to a little table in the dining-room, Lily enjoyed a most excellent meal. If only Papa Popeau and Angus Stuart had chosen the Hotel Hidalgo to come to this evening how delightful it would have been! She longed to tell Captain Stuart that she had had his letter....