“Ungenerous!” he said, so that she alone could hear, and then he was gone, and Helen looked after him. And then, turning, she glanced at Joan, and saw that there were tears in the girl’s grey eyes. CHAPTER XIX THE INVESTIGATIONS OF MR. SLOTMAN “And who the dickens,” said Lady Linden, “is Mister—Philip what’s-his-name? I can’t see it—what’s his name, Marjorie?” Lady Linden held out the card to the girl. “It—it is—Slotman, auntie,” Marjorie said. “Don’t sniff, child. You’ve got a cold; go up to my room, and in the medical—” “I haven’t a cold, auntie.” “Don’t talk to me. Go and get a dose of ammoniated tincture of quinine. As for this Mr. Slotman—unpleasant name—what the dickens does he want of me?” Marjorie did not answer. Slotman was being shewn into the drawing-room a few moments later. He was wearing his best clothes and best manner. This Lady Linden was an aristocratic dame, and Mr. Slotman had come for the express purpose of making himself very agreeable. “Oily-looking wretch!” her ladyship thought. “Well?” she asked aloud. “I am grateful to your ladyship for permitting me to see you.” “Well, you can see me if that’s all you have come for.” “No!” he said. “If—if I—” He paused. “Oh, sit down!” said Lady Linden. “Well, now what is it you want? Have you something to sell? Books, sewing machines?” “No, no!” He waved a deprecating hand. “I am come on a matter that interests me greatly. I am a financier, I have offices in London. Until lately I was employing a young lady on my staff.” “Well?” “Her name was Meredyth, Miss Joan Meredyth.” “I don’t want to hear anything at all about her,” said Lady Linden. “Why you come to me, goodness only knows. If you’ve come for information I haven’t got any. If you want information, the right person to go to is her husband!” “Her—her husband!” Mr. Slotman seemed to be choking. “You seem surprised,” said Lady Linden. “Well, so was I, but it is the truth. If you are interested in Miss Meredyth, the proper person to make enquiries of is Mr. Hugh Alston, of Hurst Dormer, Sussex. Now you know. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Slotman passed his hand across his forehead. This was unexpected, a blow that staggered him. “You—you mean, your ladyship means that Miss Meredyth is recently married.” “Her ladyship means nothing of the kind,” said Lady Linden tartly. “I mean that Miss Meredyth has for some very considerable time been Mrs. Hugh Alston. They were married, if you want to know—and I don’t see why it should any longer be kept a secret—three years ago, in June, nineteen eighteen at Marlbury, Dorset, where my niece was at school with Miss Meredyth. Now you know all I know, and if you want any further information, apply to the husband.”