THERE was something in the air that was electrical, and Mary Maxell felt it as she sat at supper with Sir John and his wife. Maxell was unusually silent and his wife amazingly so. She was nervous and almost jumped when a remark was addressed to her. The old truculence which distinguished her every word and action, her readiness to take offence, to see a slight in the most innocent remark, and her combativeness generally, had disappeared; she was almost meek when she replied to her husband’s questions. “I just went round shopping and then decided to call on a girl I had known a long time ago. She lives in the country, and I felt so nervous and depressed this morning that I thought a ride in a taxi would do me good.”
“Why didn’t you take our car?” asked the other.
“I didn’t decide until the last moment to go out to her, and then I went by train one way.”
Sir John nodded.
“I’m glad you went into the fresh air,” he said, “it will do you good. The country is not so beautiful as Honolulu, but it is not without its attractions.”
It was unusual for the Judge to be sarcastic, but it was less usual for Lady Maxell to accept sarcasm without a retort. To Mary’s surprise she made no reply, though a faint smile curved those straight lips of hers for a second.
“Do you think it was a burglar last night?” she asked suddenly.
“Good heavens, no!” said Maxell. “Burglars do not shoot up the house they burgle.”
“Do you think it is safe to have all this money in the house?” she asked.
“Perfectly safe,” he said. “I do not think that need alarm you.”
No further reference was made to the matter, and presently Sir John went up to his study. Mrs. Maxell did not go to the parlour, but drew a chair to the fire in the dining-room and read, and the girl followed her example. Presently the elder woman left the room and was gone a quarter of an hour before she returned.
“Mary,” she said, so sweetly that the girl was startled, “such an annoying thing has happened—I have lost the key of my wardrobe. You borrowed one of Sir John’s duplicates the other day—where did you put the ring?”
John Maxell was a methodical and systematic man. He had a duplicate set of all the keys in the house, and these as a rule were kept in a small wall-safe in his own bedroom. He had never invited his wife to use that receptacle, but she had a shrewd idea that the combination which was denied to her had been given to the girl.
Mary hesitated.
“Don’t you think if you asked Uncle——”
“My dear,” smiled the lady, “if I went to him now, he’d never forgive me. If you know where the keys are, be an angel and get them for me.”
The girl rose, and Lady Maxell followed her upstairs. Her own room was next to her husband’s and communicated, but the door was invariably locked on Maxell’s side. Presently the girl came in to her.
“Here they are,” she said. “Please let me put them back quickly. I feel very guilty at having taken them at all without his permission.”
“And for goodness’ sake don’t tell him,” said Lady Maxell, examining the keys.
At last she found the one she wanted, but was a long time in the process. She opened her bureau and the girl took the big key-ring from her hand with such evident relief that Lady Maxell laughed.
It had been easier than she thought and unless she made a blunder, the key she had selected from the bunch while she was fumbling at the bureau, would make just the difference—just the difference.
It was not customary for Sir John to come down from his study to enjoy the ladies............