“Gone into the drawing-room,” Potter slipped the silver pencil inside his white waistcoat pocket. “Whom do the initials ‘J. C. C.’ stand for?” “‘J. C. C.’,” echoed Duncan reflectively. “Let me see. Oh, I guess J. Calhoun-Cooper.” “A friend of yours?” “An acquaintance,” shortly. “His sister was at Madame Yvonett’s this afternoon.” “Oh!” Potter’s fingers sought the lobe of his right ear. “I believe you said they were dining here tonight.” “Yes. I asked Janet to recall their invitations, but she refused to do so.” “Quite right; unless you wish to declare war on them.” “I’m willing to do it,” Duncan scowled savagely. “The way Pauline dared to address Madame Yvonett made my blood boil. Janet promised to see that I did not sit next to her. Joe, Pauline’s brother, made a mistake in the dinner hour and arrived here some time ago; he sent word to me by Henderson not to hurry, he’d wait in the billiard-room. The poor fool must be tired of knocking the balls about by himself.” Potter looked irresolutely at Duncan, but before he could make up his mind to a definite course, the telephone bell in the library across the hall rang insistently, and with a hasty word of excuse Duncan dashed to answer it. Picking up the evening paper from the chair where Janet had dropped it, Potter read it hurriedly while awaiting Duncan’s return. “Come on in the drawing-room, Paul,” called the latter from the doorway a few minutes later. “Janet has sent a hurry call for us,” and as he joined him the physician saw the butler’s broad back disappearing in the distance. “Any news from Madame Yvonett?” he asked, as they started for the ballroom. “Miss Graves has just telephoned no word has been received from Marjorie,” Duncan looked as anxious as he felt. “I wish to heaven she was here.” “So do I; not only on your account, Duncan, but to settle one point once for all,” the physician paused doubtfully. “What are you driving at?” growled Duncan. “Your father has just told me that he has purchased the famous Maharajah ruby, and now has it in his possession....” “Yes, he bought it to give to mother on their wedding anniversary tomorrow; goodness knows why she hates ostentatious display in jewels as in everything else.” “Has your father spoken of his intention to buy the ruby?” “No.” “Um!” A dry smile twisted Potter’s lips. “The jeweler who conducted the sale must have talked. The evening paper gives a full account of your father’s valuable purchase, and a description of the ruby. Now, if only Miss Langdon were here we would soon find out how disinterested are her thieving propensities.” “I have a great mind to punch your head!” said Duncan furiously. “Heaven only knows where the poor girl is tonight; and you stand there and dare insinuate---- Oh, come into the drawing-room and meet----” his voice died in his throat. Standing receiving the guests, looking extremely beautiful in her low-cut evening dress, was Marjorie Langdon. CHAPTER XXIV