The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(206)
It was a hot June day. In spite of closed blinds and open windows, the rooms were stifling to a degree. The butler, a small dark, slight Frenchman, made his way through the throng to a window at Loveday’s right hand, to see if a little more air could be admitted.
Major Druce followed on his heels to Loveday’s side.
“Will you come into the next room and have some tea?” he asked; “I’m sure you must feel nearly suffocated here.” He broke off, then added in a lower tone: “I hope you have kept your eyes on the Beast. Did you ever in your life see a more repulsive-looking animal?”
Loveday took his questions in their order.
“No tea, thank you,” she said, “but I shall be glad if you will tell your butler to bring me a glass of water—there he is, at your elbow. Yes, off and on I have been studying Mr. Cassimi, and I must admit I do not like his smileless smile.”
The butler brought the water. The Major, much to his annoyance, was seized upon simultaneously by two ladies, one eager to know if any tidings had been received of Mdlle. Cunier, the other anxious to learn if a distinguished president to the Harem Mission had been decided upon.
Soon after six the rooms began to thin somewhat, and presentations to the Princess ceasing, Loveday was able to get a full view of her.
She presented a striking picture, seated, half-reclining, on a sofa, with two white-robed, dark-skinned Egyptian maidens standing behind it. A more unfortunate sobriquet than “Dolly” could scarcely have been found by the Major for this Oriental beauty, with her olive complexion, her flashing eyes and extravagant richness of attire.
“‘Queen of Sheba’ would be far more appropriate,” thought Loveday. “She turns the commonplace sofa into a throne, and, I should say, makes every one of those ladies feel as if she ought to have donned court dress and plumes for the occasion.”
It was difficult for her, from where she sat, to follow the details of the Princess’s dress. She could only see that a quantity of soft orange-tinted silk was wound about the upper part of her arms and fell from her shoulders like drooping wings, and that here and there jewels flashed out from its folds. Her thick black hair was loosely knotted, and kept in its place by jeweled pins and a bandeau of pearls; and similar bandeaus adored her slender throat and wrists.
“Are you lost in admiration?” said the Major, once more at her elbow, in a slightly sarcastic tone. “That sort of thing is very taking and effective at first, but after a time—”
He did not finish his sentence, shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Half-past six chimed from a small clock on a bracket. Carriage after carriage was rolling away from the door now, and progress on the stairs was rendered difficult by a descending crowd.
A quarter to seven struck, the last hand-shaking had been gone through, and Mrs. Druce, looking hot and tired, had sunk into a chair at the Princess’s right hand, bending slightly forward to render conversation with her easy.
On the Princess’s left hand, Lady Gwynne had taken a chair, and sat in converse with Hafiz Cassimi, who stood beside her.
Evidently these four were on very easy and intimate terms with each other. Lady Gwynne had tossed her big picture hat on a chair at her left hand, and was fanning herself with a palm-leaf. Mrs. Druce, beckoning to the butler, desired him to bring them some claret-cup from the refreshment-room.
No one seemed to observe Loveday seated still in her nook beside the big palm.