“There seems to be no one here yet,” he reported.  “We came a little early for the evening crowd.  The clerk says Tom Delamere was here to luncheon, but he hasn’t seen him for several hours.”

“He’s not a very gallant cavalier,” said Mrs. Carteret severely.  “He ought to have been waiting for us.”

Clara was clearly disappointed, and made no effort to conceal her displeasure, leaving Ellis in doubt as to whether or not he were its object.  Perhaps she suspected him of not having made a very thorough search.  Her next remark might have borne such a construction.

“Sister Olivia,” she said pettishly, “let’s go up to the parlor.  I can play the piano anyway, if there’s no one to talk to.”

“I find it very comfortable here, Clara,” replied her sister placidly.  “Mr. Ellis will go with you.  You’ll probably find some one in the parlor, or they’ll come when you begin to play.”

Clara’s expression was not cordial, but she rose as if to go.  Ellis was in a quandary.  If she went through the hall, the chances were at least even that she would see Delamere.  He did not care a rap for Delamere,—­if he chose to make a public exhibition of himself, it was his own affair; but to see him would surely spoil Miss Pemberton’s evening, and, in her frame of mind, might lead to the suspicion that Ellis had prearranged the exposure.  Even if she should not harbor this unjust thought, she would not love the witness of her discomfiture.  We had rather not meet the persons who have seen, even though they never mention, the skeletons in our closets.  Delamere had disposed of himself for the evening.  Ellis would have a fairer field with Delamere out of sight and unaccounted for, than with Delamere in evidence in his present condition.

“Wouldn’t you rather take a stroll on the beach, Miss Clara?” he asked, in the hope of creating a diversion.

“No, I’m going to the parlor. You needn’t come, Mr. Ellis, if you’d rather go down to the beach.  I can quite as well go alone.”

“I’d rather go with you,” he said meekly.

They were moving toward the door opening into the hall, from which the broad staircase ascended.  Ellis, whose thoughts did not always respond quickly to a sudden emergency, was puzzling his brain as to how he should save her from any risk of seeing Delamere.  Through the side door leading from the hall into the office, he saw the bell-boy to whom he had spoken seated on the bench provided for the servants.

“Won’t you wait for me just a moment, Miss Clara, while I step into the office?  I’ll be with you in an instant.”

Clara hesitated.

“Oh, certainly,” she replied nonchalantly.

Ellis went direct to the bell-boy.  “Sit right where you are,” he said, “and don’t move a hair.  What is the lady in the hall doing?”

“She’s got her back tu’ned this way, suh.  I ‘spec’ she’s lookin’ at the picture on the opposite wall, suh.”