Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
"Take the gentleman's bag to the Blue Room, Sexton," she said calmly,
"and then lay out his evening clothes."
"Yes, miss."
"I will be in the hall when you come down, Captain, but there is
no hurry."
West followed the servant up the softly carpeted stairs, finding the
apartment assigned him not only extremely comfortable, but even elegant
in its furnishing. He stood at the window looking down on the tennis
court, while Sexton opened the bag, and spread out the required
garments on the bed. Evidently he was in a home of wealth and
refinement. The grounds outspread before his eyes were spacious and
attractive; in the distance he even perceived an artificial lake with
paths winding enticingly along its shore, and through strips of
woodland. Who could this strange girl be? this Natalie Coolidge? And
what could she possible desire of him? These questions remained
unanswered, yet continually tantalized. He could not even grasp her
personality. In spite of her apparent friendliness, her irresistible
smile, her lack of conventionality, there remained a certain reserve
about the young woman he felt quite unable to penetrate. Whatever game
she was playing she kept the cards securely in her own hands. He was
not yet admitted to her confidence. He stood there immersed in these
thoughts still, when Sexton spoke.
"Shall I assist you, sir?"
"No; it will not be necessary. You have laid out everything?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well; that will do, at present. What is the hour for dinner?"
"Seven o'clock, sir."
"I have ample time then. That will be all." The man retired noiselessly,
closing the door after him, and West began slowly to dress, rather amused
at the care he took, that all details should be as correct as possible.
Unquestionably the girl interested him oddly. She was original, a new
type, and he made no effort to drive her from his imagination. He had not
been long back from the war zone, his acquaintance in the city was
extremely limited, and consequently this girl, thus suddenly brought into
his life, had made a far greater impression than she might otherwise. Yet
under any conditions, she would have proven noticeable, and attractive.
He endeavoured to analyse what constituted this peculiar attractiveness,
but without arriving at any definite conclusion. She was young, of
course, and undeniably pretty, with eyes really remarkable, and a smile
not to be easily forgotten. She possessed a sense of humour, and had left
upon him a strong impression of frank sincerity. Yet in these qualities
she did not differ so greatly from others he had known. Perhaps mystery
had much to do with her power of enticement--a continual wonderment as to
what she might do next. Then she was so self-poised, so confident of
herself, so naturally informed. All these things had their charm, and,
coupled with her undoubted beauty, left his brain in a whirl.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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