"Quite slightly," said Miss Falconer in an aloof tone. "My brother came over on the same ship with her—he came to join us here."
Billy experienced a flood of mental light. The brother—at the hotel he had discovered that his name was Robert Falconer—was coming to join his elder sister and her young charge. He had come on the same steamer as Miss Beecher. Ergo, he was staying at the hotel where Miss Beecher was and not with his sister. Billy comprehended the anxiety of the lady with the Roman nose. He looked at Lady Claire with a certain sympathy.
He caught her own eyes reconnoitering, and they each looked hastily away.
Again Miss Falconer returned to her attack. "Then you really know nothing positive of Miss Beecher's family?"
"Nothing in the world," said Billy cheerfully. "But why not ask Miss Beecher?"
The lady made no reply. "Miss Beecher is a beautiful girl," said Lady Claire hastily. "She's so beautiful that I suppose we are all rather curious about her—of course people will ask about a girl like that!"
"Of course," said Billy, and Lady Claire, perceiving that he resented this catechism about his young countrywoman, and Miss Falconer perceiving that nothing was to be gotten out of him, the conversation was promptly turned into other channels, the vague, general channels of comment upon Cairo.
The Evershams dined alone. Alternately, from their table to the doorway went Billy's eager eyes, but no vision with shining curls and laughing eyes appeared. Evidently she had stayed to dine with whatever people she had gone to see. Robert Falconer was watching that table, too.... Perhaps she would not return till late; perhaps he would have only a tiny time with her that evening.... And he had not been able to buy out that man's berth upon the steamer....
Consommé and whitebait, bœuf rôti and haricots vert and crême de cérises succeeded one another in deepening gloom. The whole dinner over, and she had not appeared!