“Of course I did not understand—how could I?—that Rose—was such a very good friend of your sister's and all your family's. Rose had told me something about it, I believe—but I was so—foolishly disturbed—when I came in—that really, I—well I must admit that even if I had seen you when I first came in that would hardly have been the thought uppermost in my mind at the time.” He spoke in the same tone of kindly reproof toward himself that he would have used if business worries had made him commit a small but definite act of inhospitality toward one of his guests.
“And naturally—you will think me very ignorant indeed of my son's affairs—and those of his friends—but while I had heard from Peter—of the breaking of your engagement—you will pardon me, I hope, if I touch upon a subject that must be so painful to you—I had no idea of the fact that you were—intending to leave the country—and knowing Rose thought that with her present position on 'Mode'—” he paused.
“It was very kind indeed of Mrs. Severance to offer to do what she could for me,” said Oliver non-committally. He thought he got the drift of the story now—a sheer one enough but with Mr. Piper's present reaction toward abasement and his obvious wish to believe whatever he could, it had evidently sufficed.
“I know it was silly of me having Oliver to dinner here alone—” said Mrs. Severance with the air of one ready to apologize for a very minor impropriety. “Silly and wrong—but Louise was coming too until she telephoned about Jane Ellen's little upset—and I thought we could have such fun getting supper together with Elizabeth away. I get a little tired of always entertaining my friends in restaurants, Sargent, especially when I want to talk to them without having to shout. And really I never imagined—”
She looked steadily at Mr. Piper and he seemed to shrink a little under her gaze.
“As for Elizabeth,” he said with hurried vindictiveness, “Elizabeth shall leave tomorrow morning. She—”
“Oh, we might as well keep her, Sargent,” said Mrs. Severance placidly. “You will have to pay her blackmail, of course—but after all that's really your fault a little, isn't it?—and it seems as if that was more or less what you had to do with any kind of passable servant nowadays. And Elizabeth is perfection—as a servant. As police—” she smiled a little cruelly. “Well, we shan't go into that, but I think it would be so much better to keep her. Then we'll be getting something out of her in return for our blackmail, don't you see?”
“Perhaps. Still we have no need of discussing that now. I can only say that if Elizabeth is to stay, she will have to—” “Reform? My dear Sargent! When everything she did was from the most rigidly moral motives? I had no idea she was such a clever cat, though—”
“She will have ample opportunities of exercising her cleverness in jail if I can find any means of getting her there, and I think I can. Really,” said Mr. Piper reflectively, “really when I think—”
Then he stopped.