CHAPTER IX
The afternoon that Lily Fairfield spent on what is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all the golf courses in Europe will ever be remembered by her as a delightful interlude in a very troubled time.
For three hours she forgot the terrible thing which had happened to her that morning, or, if she could not entirely forget it, it receded into the background of her mind.
Everything is made easy—almost too easy—for the visitor to Monte Carlo. Thus Lily found an excellent set of clubs provided for her, and with M. Popeau looking on benevolently, she and Captain Stuart had a splendid game.
But when, at last, the three of them stood in front of the shabby front door of La Solitude, a feeling of apprehension, almost of terror, came over the girl.
“I hope Aunt Cosy won’t be angry with me for having gone to the Commissioner of Police,” she said nervously.
“You were quite right to do so,” said Captain Stuart shortly.
As for M. Popeau, he exclaimed, “Do let me come in with you, dear little lady! I can promise so to put the matter to the Countess that she will not be angry.”
But Lily shook her head. “I’m not such a coward as that.” She added, impatiently, “I do wish Cristina would come and open the door! I can’t think why they keep it locked. It’s literally the only way into the house, unless one of the drawing-room windows is open. In England there’s always a nice back door to a house of this sort.”
As she said the words, the door did open, and Cristina cautiously peered out to see who was there. The poor old waiting woman was very pale, and the two men, as well as Lily, were startled at her look of illness and of fear.