Page:Alice Stuyvesant - The Vanity Box.djvu/302

 anything peculiar, however, and she was glad. He replied sedately that he would find out; but Terry was sure, from the reserved expression of the pinched face, that he knew Sir Ian to be in the hotel.

She followed the lean figure to the door of a moderate-sized reception-room, furnished clumsily in mahogany of mid-Victorian date. Though it was a warm July night, the crimson rep curtains were drawn, and there was a stuffy smell of ancient upholstery in the air.

"How can Ian choose such a place to stay?" she wondered, with the irritation of growing nervousness. If she had known the reason it would not have allayed her anxiety. Sir Ian was here because he had first met the woman who was to be his wife in this house. It had seemed suitable to him to return here now.

"What name, madam, if the gentleman is in?" the servant wished to know.

Terry started slightly. Ian would not like her to send up her name, which had figured beside his in the newspapers of late.

"Tell him that the friend who was to have written him a letter this evening, was obliged to call instead, and is anxious to see him for a few moments," said Terry, slightly emphasizing the last words, lest Sir Ian should think she meant to pay a long visit.

"Very well, madam."

The old man moved a few papers and magazines