A DINNER INVITATION
"Look what's after you, man," Skeet me from her as I out through the big room in of Ina Vandeman. "Better you here. I you a yob. Lots safer—only the of your broken."
I up into her jolly, face, and waited for the woman who came toward me with that elastic, movement of hers, the well-opened studying me, all their them.
"Mr. Boyne," a hand on my arm me to a door; we together out on to a small that to the lawn. "My husband me your message. Nobody over by the tennis court; let's go and walk up and there."
Her on my as we moved off; she her points from time to time by a pressure.
"Such a to have a man like you in of this investigation." She gave me an smile; tall as she was, her was almost on a level with my own, yet I still her unreadable, none of those quick under the skin that register the of humanity. She a handsome, perfectly groomed, and woman.
"Thank you," was all I said.
"Mr. Vandeman and I how very, very this is. Of course, now, neighbors and of Mr. Gilbert are under inspection. Everybody's private are to be out. We've all got to take our medicine. No use personal resentment."
Fine; but she'd have done to keep her hands off me. An old police too much of the class of who use that lever. I looked at them now, white, delicate, many-ringed, much more than her face, and I them of anything.
"Here are the names you'll want," she in the of her gown, out a paper and passed it over. "These are the ones who after the reception, up to my room with me, and helped me change—or rather, me."
"The ones," I didn't open the paper yet, just looked at her across it, "who were with you all the time from the till you left the house for San Francisco?"
"It's like this," again she at me, "the five names are on that paper might any one of them have been in and out of my room the time. I can't say as to that. But they can that I wasn't out of the room—because I wasn't dressed. As soon as I from my wedding to my traveling suit, I stairs and we were all together till we to San Francisco and supper at Tait's, where I had the of meeting you, Mr. Boyne."
"I understand," I said. "They all speak for you—but you couldn't speak for them." Then I opened and looked. Some list! The social and financial elect of Santa Ysobel: bankers' ladies; kings' daughters; you couldn't doubt, or buy. But at the top of all was Laura Bowman's name.
We had for the turn at the end of the court. I the paper her.
"How about this one? Do you think she was in the room all the time? Or have you any recollection?"
The moved a little closer and spoke low.
"Laura and the doctor were in the middle of one of their rows. She's a of temperament. Mamma was ill; the girls were having to start out with only Laura for chaperone; she said something about going somewhere, and it wouldn't take her long—she'd be in of time. But she or not—Mr. Boyne, you don't want us to tell you our and guesses? That wouldn't be fair, would it?"
"It wouldn't anything," I countered. "I'll only make use of what can be proven. Anything you say is safe with me."
"Well, then, of you know all about the Laura and Jim Edwards. Laura was she wouldn't go up to San Francisco with her husband—or if she did, he must drive her the same night. She wouldn't our house to her from home; the doctor, man, packed some of for her and it over. When he came with it, she wasn't to be found; and she did appear until we were into the machine."
I listened, toward the of that little hill over which Worth and Barbara might be to appear almost any moment now. Then we the turn at the end of the court, and my view of it was cut off.
"Laura and Jim—they're the ones this is going to be hard on. I do sorry for them. She's always been a problem to her family and friends. A great deal's been overlooked. Everybody Jim; but—he's a southerner; comes natural to them."
Five minutes I had been to Edwards' defense of this girl; I his "scouting" for a to her home and save her with her family. That be as intrigue, too, I suppose. We were slowly toward the clubhouse.
"I don't give Dr. Bowman much," I said deliberately. A quick look came my way, and,
"Mr. Gilbert was to him. Everybody's always that only Mr. Gilbert's that match together. Now he's dead, and Laura's from some of he to have over her, of she and she'll be able to the doctor in peace and Jim."
"No movement of the yet?"
She stopped and toward me.
"Dr. Bowman—he's our family physician, you know—is trying for a very position away from here, in an sanitarium. Divorce now would his chances. But I don't know how long he can Laura to off. She's in a mood; I can't make her out, myself. She Gilbert; yet his death to have her frightfully."
"You say she didn't like Mr. Gilbert?"
"They each other. But—he was so peculiar—of that wasn't strange. Many people him. Bron did. He always him he said he was insane. Bron told you my experience—the one that me with Worth?"
She looked at me, a level look; no shifting of color, no of or throat. We were at the steps.
"Here comes the boy himself," I as Worth and Barbara, their arms full of ferns, the turn from the little at the of the where the through. We and waited for them.
"You two," Ina spoke to them. "Mr. Boyne's just promised to come over to dinner to-morrow night." Her asked me to accept the and the invitation. "I want of you."
"I'm going to be at your house anyhow, Ina," Barbara said, "working with Skeet painting those big they've up out in your court. You'll have to us; but we'll be messy. I don't know about a dinner party."
"It isn't," Ina protested, smiling. "It's just what you said—feeding you. Nobody there and Skeet but Mr. Boyne and Worth—if he'll come."
"I have to go up to San Francisco to-morrow," said Worth.
"But you'll be by dinner time?" Ina added quickly.
"If I make it at all."
"Well, you can come just as you are, if you in at the last minute," she said, and he and Barbara on to their in. When they were out of hearing, she and me with,
"Mr. Vandeman has me to say this to you, but I'm going to speak. If Worth doesn't have to be told about me—and his father—I'd be glad."
"If the missing of the are found," I came up slowly, "he'd know then." I her as I said it. What a look of in the little about her mouth as she spoke next:
"Those will be found, Mr. Boyne. I them. Mr. Gilbert presented them to me as a wedding gift. He was insane, but, to take his own life, I think his to let a record against an girl who had done him any harm."
We a moment, then she looked at me with,
"You're to dinner to-morrow night? So to have you. At seven o'clock. Well—if this is all, then?" and at my nod, she up the steps, at the door to and at me.
What a woman! I but her nerve. If her proved copper-fastened, as something told me it would, I had no more of home the of Thomas Gilbert to Mrs. Bronson Vandeman of Santa Ysobel than I had of the in their courses!
