The Princess had promised to arrange
everything.
December came, and we still remained on at the hotel. Once Olinto had
written me repeating his warning, but I did not heed it. I somehow
distrusted the fellow.
Jack, now thoroughly recovered, called almost daily at Bassett Road, and
would often bring Muriel to the Cecil to tea or to luncheon. Often I
inquired the whereabouts of her father and of Hylton Chater, but she
declared herself in entire ignorance, and believed they were abroad.
One afternoon, shortly before Christmas, as we were idling in the
American bar of the hotel, my friend told me that Muriel had invited us
to tea at her cousin's that afternoon, and accordingly we went there in
company.
The drawing-room into which we were ushered was familiar to me as the
apartment wherein I had told Muriel of the attempt upon her lover's
life.
As we sat together Muriel, a smart figure in a pale blue gown, poured
tea for us and chatted more merrily, I thought, than ever before. She
seemed quick and nervous and yet full of happiness, as she should indeed
have been, for Jack Durnford was one of the best fellows in the world,
and his restoration to health little short of miraculous.
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