comb and brush in at the last. She snapped the suitcase shut, locking it, and slipped the key into her handbag that lay on the bureau.
Then very noiselessly and swiftly she slid into her dress that she had worn when arriving, put on her hat and jacket, slipped over to the door with her suitcase and set it outside in the hall.
While she had been working she had been thinking, evolving a plan that would be perfectly natural, and yet foil her enemy.
She gave one swift glance about the room to see if she had left anything behind, a regretful glance because she had anticipated a quiet hour or two by herself to read in that pleasant luxury. Then she closed the door silently and gathering up her suitcase when tiptoe down the velvet shod stairs.
A glance through the dining room door showed Thelma arranging dishes on the long table, placing forks and spoons and knives. Could she possibly get out the front door without being seen? Hardly!
Swiftly she walked over to the dining room door and spoke in a subdued tone.
“Thelma,” she said, “I’ve just remembered something I didn’t give to mother, and I’m going to run over to Aunt Harriet’s and give it to her. I’ve plenty of time. It won’t take an hour. I’ll be back as soon as Sydney is. And Thelma,” she added on second thought, “did you know Minnie Lazarelle is upstairs? She’s taking a bath in my bathroom now, and I slipped out. She doesn’t know I’ve gone!”
“The huzzy!” said Thelma with a vexed look. “Miss Sydney will be that angry! Isn’t she the limit! I had the new maid take her up to the old nursery. Now what’ll I do? I better telephone the madam.”
“Yes,” said Rae with a knowing smile. “Meantime I’m going. Don’t worry about me. I’ll take any place that’s left if that’s any easier for you, Thelma.”
“Bless your heart, Miss Rae, yer like sunshine on a dark day. But you mustn’t’ carry yer own suitcase. Why don’t ye leave it here? I’ll put it away safe.”
“No, I need it, Thelma, to carry some things, and it isn’t the least heavy. Nothing much in it. Now, I’m going!” and Rae slipped out and shut the door quickly, hurrying to the corner to catch the next bus to her aunt’s house, her whole being trembling with excitement.
And now she had to think what she should do next.
It was true what she had told Thelma that she had just remembered something she had meant to give her mother. It was a fine little handkerchief that had been forgotten and she had tucked into her own suitcase. But it wasn’t necessary. Well, she would stop on the way and get her mother—what should she get her mother? Some flowers perhaps? And what should she tell of the reason why she had come all the way over to the north side of the city? She would have to think that out as best she could on the way.
CHAPTER II
The ushers were getting ready for the dinner. They were housed in the home of Paul Redfern, one of their number, whose family were traveling abroad, and who was keeping bachelor’s hall with a couple of servants to keep things in order. There was plenty of space and they were having a grand time scattered through three or four palatial rooms, shouting conversation back and forth. They were all friends, three of them having gone to the same college, and the rest had been more or less intimate friends childhood. For the bridegroom from afar had left the matter of ushers to his bride as the simplest way of solving the problem, since all of his friends were on the west coast.
“Say, fellas, you’d better begin to rustle yourselves into battle array pretty quick! We ought to be starting in half an hour,” called Paul, who as host had suddenly become aware of the time.
“You don’t say! Is it that late?” said Reeves Leighton, starting up from a sleepy hollow chair into which he had dropped when he came in. “What unearthly hour is this dinner anyway? Man, do you know what time it is?”
“Sure I know,” said Paul, “and the dinner’s at six thirty. That’s not an unearthly hour. We have rehearsal in the church at eight, and they particularly asked us to be on time, because rehearsals always take forever and a day, and Mrs. Hollis said she wanted Sydney to get to sleep early so she would be all right for tomorrow. Syd hasn’t been very well lately, and her mother’s worried about her.”
“Yes, I guess she’s been going a pretty fast pace the last month or two,” said Steve Grant. “I see her everywhere I go. It beats me why when a girl gets engaged everybody in the neighborhood has to begin to torment her with parties and things. Say, we’re going to miss that gal a lot when she goes away.”
“Yes, Steve, you ought to have thought of that before. Why ever did you let a strange bridegroom from afar capture her?”
“I did my best,” said Steve jauntily with a handsome grin. “I couldn’t help it, could I, if she preferred the stranger from afar to my manly beauty?”
“Sure you could have helped it, Stevie,” teased Paul Redfern. “You never fail to get what you want, do you? The trouble was you were indolent. You should have begun sooner, and made hay while the sun shone! If we hadn’t counted on you to keep Syd in this part of the country some of the rest of us might have got going in time to save her!”
“Well, at that I hear she’s doing rather well for herself,” said Curlin Grant with a comical grin. “A million dollars is not to be sneezed at, and everybody knows you can’t scare up one of those from any of us poor country guys.”
Then the doorbell was heard in the distance, and they all came to attention.
“That’s bound to be Link!” said Paul. “He’s always right on the dot for time. Lincoln Silverthorn is a hound for doing everything on the dotted line. But that means, fellas, that we’ve got to hustle!”
“But where’s Luther Waite?” they called out as they scattered in search of their various garments.
“Oh, have you forgotten? ‘Luther Waite, he’s always late’?” yelled out Steve as he made a dash for the room that had been assigned him. “He’ll turn up after we’re seated at the table. That’s Lute.”
“Or maybe as we’re marching up the aisle,” added Curlin under his breath.
Lincoln Silverthorn came upstairs gloved, overcoated, his hat in his hand to see how near ready they were. He stood in the hall where he could get a fairly good view of each of the four rooms where the young men were hurrying into their garments.
“Hello, Link! Early as usual I see!”
“Late as usual, I see,” said Link grinning.
“Say, Link, seen anything of Lute Waite?”
“Ho! You wouldn’t expect those two to meet up with each other, not beforehand, anyway!” called out Curlin comically.
“No,” said Link. “I haven’t seen him. In fact I wasn’t looking for him. It wouldn’t occur to me to expect him so soon.”
But while they were laughing at that the doorbell rang again and Luther Waite came pounding up the stairs, his hat in his hand, his hair awry, and a look of
