"A cup of coffee for Lady Vincent in one minute, ready or not ready!" was the somewhat unreasonable command of the judge.
Jim disappeared to deliver all his master's orders.
And it seemed that the coffee was ready, for he almost immediately reappeared bearing a tray with the service arranged upon it.
"Is it strong, Jim?" inquired Claudia, as she raised the cup to her lips.
"Yes, miss—ma'am—my ladyship, I mean!" said poor Jim, who was excessively bothered by Claudia's new title and the changes that were rung upon it.
The coffee must have been strong, to judge by its effects upon
Claudia.
"Take it away," she said, after having drunk two cupfuls. "Papa, I feel better; and while Ruth is unpacking my clothes I may just as well sit here and tell you why, if indeed I really know why, I am here alone. We were at Niagara, where we had intended to remain throughout this month of September. All the world seemed to know where we were and how long we intended to stay; for you are aware how absurdly we democratic and republican Americans worship rank and title; and how certain our reporters would be to chronicle the movements of Lord and Lady Vincent," said Claudia, with that air of world-scorn and self-scorn in which she often indulged.
"Well, Lady Vincent cannot consistently find fault with that," said the judge, with a covert smile.
"Because Lady Vincent shares the folly or has shared it," said Claudia; "but Lord Vincent did find fault with it; great fault—much greater fault than was necessary, I thought, and grumbled incessantly at our custom of registering names at the hotels, and at 'American snobbery and impertinence' generally."
"Bless his impudence! Who sent for him?"
"Papa, we should have quarreled upon this subject in our honeymoon, if I had had respect enough for him to hold any controversy with him."
"Claudia!"
"Well, I cannot help it, papa! I must speak out somewhere and to someone! Where so well as here in the woods; and to whom so well as to you?"
"You have not yet told me why you are here alone. And I assure you, Claudia, that the fact gives me uneasiness; it is unusual—unprecedented!"
"I am telling you, papa. One morning while we were still at Niagara I was sitting alone in our private parlor, when our mail was brought in—your letter for me, and three letters for 'my lord.' Of the latter, the first bore the postmark of Banff, the second that of Liverpool, and the third that of New York. They were all superscribed by the same hand; all were evidently from the same person. After turning them over and over in my hand, and in my mind, I came to the conclusion that the first dated was written to announce the writer as starting upon a journey; the second to announce the embarkment at Liverpool; and the third the arrival at New York; and that these letters, though posted at different times and places, had by the irregularities of the ocean mails happened to arrive at their final destination the same day. Lord Vincent has a mother and several sisters; yet I felt very sure that the letters never came from either of them, because in fact I had seen the handwriting of each in their letters to him. While I was still wondering over these rather mysterious letters my lord lounged into the room.
"I handed him the letters, the Banff one being on the top. As soon as he saw the handwriting he gave vent to various exclamations of annoyance, such as I had never heard from a gentleman, and scarcely ever expected to hear from a lord. 'Bosh!' 'Bother!' 'Here's a go!' 'Set fire to her,' etc., being among the most harmless and refined. But presently he saw the postmarks of Liverpool and New York on the other letters, and, after tearing them open and devouring their contents, he gave way to a fury of passion that positively appalled me. Papa, he swore and cursed like a pirate in a storm!"
"At you?"
"At me? I think not," answered Claudia haughtily; "but at some person or persons unknown. However, as he forgot himself so far as to give vent to his passion in my presence, I got up and retired to my chamber. Presently he came in, gracefully apologized for his violence—did not explain the cause of it, however—but requested me to give orders for the packing of our trunks and be ready to leave for New York in one hour."
"Did he give you no reason for his sudden movement?"
"Not until I inquired; then he gave me the general, convenient, unsatisfactory reason 'business.' In an hour we were off to New York. But now, papa, comes the singular part of the affair. When we reached the city, instead of driving to one of the best hotels, as had always been his custom, he drove to quite an inferior place, and registered our names—'Captain and Mrs. Jenkins.'"
"What on earth did he do that for?"
"How can I tell? When I made the same inquiry of him he merely answered that he was tired of being trumpeted to the world by these 'impertinent Yankee reporters!' The next day he left me alone in that stupid place and went out on his 'business,' whatever that was. And when he returned in the evening he told me that the 'business' was happily concluded, and that we might as well go on to Washington and Tanglewood to pay our promised visit to you. I very readily acceded to that proposition, for, papa, I was pining to see you."
"My dear child!" said the judge, with emotion.
"So next morning we started for the Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington station. We were in good time, and were just comfortably seated in one of the best cars when Lord Vincent caught sight of someone on the platform. And papa, with a muttered curse he started up and hurried from the car, throwing behind to me the hasty words, 'I'll be back soon.' Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and he did not come. And while I was still anxiously looking for him the train started. It was the express, and came all the way through. And that is why myself and attendants are here alone."
"All this seems very strange, Claudia," said the judge, with a troubled countenance.
"Yes, very."
"What do you make of it? Of course you, knowing more of the circumstances, are better able to judge than I am."
"Papa, I do not know."
"Who was it that he caught sight of on the platform?"
"A tall, handsome, imperious-looking woman between thirty and forty years of age, I should say; a sort of Cleopatra; very dark, very richly dressed. She was looking at him intently when he caught sight of her and rushed out as I said."
"And you can make nothing of it?"
"Nothing. I do not know whether he missed the train by design or accident; or whether he is at this moment on board the cars steaming to Washington or on board one of the ocean packets steaming to Liverpool."
"A bad, bad business, Claudia; all this grieves me much. You have been but two months married, and you return to me alone and your husband is among the missing; a bad, bad business, Claudia," said the judge very gravely.
"Not so bad as your words would seem to imply, papa. At least I hope not. I am inclined to think the detention was accidental; and that Lord Vincent will arrive by the next boat," said Claudia.
"But how coolly and dispassionately you speak of an uncertainty that would drive any other woman almost mad. At this moment you do not know whether you are abandoned or not, and to be candid with you, you do not seem to care," said the judge austerely.
