“She must be,” said Trent, mimicking the Baron. “It is a matter of vast importance. Tell her a gentleman wishes to present her ambulance fund with a large sum of money. To-morrow will be too late.”
“I’ll see what can be done,” said the voice. “That’s about the only matter I dare disturb her on. Hold the wire.”
“Madam,” said Trent a minute later, “it is the Baron von Eckstein who has the honor to speak with you.”
“An odd hour to choose,” returned Mrs. Adrien Beekman with no cordiality.
“I wish to make reparation, Madam,” the pseudo Baron flung back. “This afternoon you talked to my wife, the Baroness, about your ambulances.”
“And found her not interested in the least,” Mrs. Beekman said, a little crossly. So eminent a leader of society as she was not accustomed to refusal of a donation when asked of rich women striving for social recognition.
“We have decided that your cause is one which should have met a more generous response. I have been accused of being disloyal. That is false, Madam. My wife has been attacked as pro-German. That is also false. To prove our loyalty we have decided to send you a diamond necklace. Convert this into money and buy what ambulances you can.”
“Do you mean this?” said the astonished Mrs. Adrien Beekman.
“I am never more serious,” retorted the Baron.
“What value has it?” she asked next.