A few evenings later Keith found Mrs. Lancaster in the hotel. He had just arrived from The Lawns when Mrs. Lancaster came down to dinner. Her greeting was perfect. Even Mrs. Nailor was mystified. She had never looked handsomer. Her black gown fitted perfectly her trim figure, and a single red rose, half-blown, caught in her bodice was her only ornament. She possessed the gift of simplicity. She was a beautiful walker, and as she moved slowly down the long dining-room as smoothly as a piece of perfect machinery, every eye was upon her. She knew that she was being generally observed, and the color deepened in her cheeks and added the charm of freshness to her beauty.
"By Jove! what a stunning woman!" exclaimed a man at a table near by to his wife.
"It is not difficult to be 'a stunning woman' in a Worth gown, my dear," she said sweetly. "May I trouble you for the Worcestershire?"
Keith's attitude toward Mrs. Lancaster puzzled even so old a veteran as Mrs. Nailor.
Mrs. Nailor was an adept in the art of inquisition. To know about her friends' affairs was one of the objects of her life, and it was not only the general facts that she insisted on knowing: she proposed to be acquainted with their deepest secrets and the smallest particulars. She knew Alice Lancaster's views, or believed she did; but she had never ventured to speak on the subject to Gordon Keith. In fact, she stood in awe of Keith, and now he had mystified her by his action. Finally, she could stand it no longer, and so next evening she opened fire on Keith. Having screwed her courage to the sticking-point, she attacked boldly. She caught him on the verandah, smoking alone, and watching him closely to catch the effect of her attack, said suddenly:
"I want to ask you a question: are you in love with Alice Lancaster?"
Keith turned slowly and looked at her, looked at her so long that she began to blush.
"Don't you think, if I am, I had better inform her first?" he said quietly.
Mrs. Nailor was staggered; but she was in for it, and she had to fight her way through. "I was scared to death, my dear," she said when she repeated this part of the conversation, "for I never know just how he is going to take anything; but he was so quiet, I went on."
"Well, yes, I think you had," she said; "Alice can take care of herself; but I tell you that you have no right to be carrying on with that sweet, innocent young girl here. You know what people say of you?"