CHAPTER VI

JACK’S WATCH-FOB

Elise spent Saturday and Sunday in Washington with the Claiborne family, and A.O. almost prayed that Jimmy would make his visit in her absence.  On her return she had so much to tell that she did not mention his name, and A.O. hoped that he was forgotten.  All Monday afternoon she went around in a flutter of nervousness, “feeling in her bones” that Jimmy would be there that night, and afraid that Elise would find some way in which to carry out her threat of seeing him at all hazards.  One of the ways she had suggested trying, was to sound a burglar or a fire alarm, so that every one would rush out into the hall.  But when the dreaded moment actually arrived and A.O. stood in the middle of the floor with his card in her hand, Elise merely looked up from her book with a provoking grin.

“Oh, haven’t I had you going for the last week!” she exclaimed.  “Really made you believe that I wanted to see your dear Jimmy-boy!  A.O., you are dead easy!  I haven’t had so much fun out of anything for ages.”

Almost giddy with the sense of relief, A.O. hurried away, leaving Elise poring over her French lesson.  At the lower landing she paused to tear Jimmy’s card to atoms and drop them in a waste basket which was standing there.  Even his card might betray him, for it was not an elegant correct bit of engraved board like the Lieutenant’s.  It was a large square card inscribed by a professional penman; the kind who sets up stands on street corners or in convenient doorways, and executes showy scrolls and tendrils in the way of initial letters “while you wait.”

As the door closed behind A.O., Elise sent her book flying across the room, and the next moment was groping under the bed for a dress-box which she had hidden there.  A blond wig that she had bought while in Washington for next week’s tableaux tumbled out first, with a motley collection of borrowed articles, which she had been at great pains to procure.

Laughing so that she could hardly dress, Elise began to make a hurried change.  Five minutes later she stood before the glass completely disguised.  Cornie Dean’s long black skirt trailed around her.  A.O.’s own jacket fitted her snugly, with Margaret Elwood’s new black feather boa, which had just been sent her from home, hiding the cut of its familiar collar.  Jane Ridgeway’s second best spectacles covered her mischievous eyes, and a black veil was draped over the small toque and blond hair in such a way that its broad band of crape hid the lower part of her face.  As a finishing touch a piece of gold-leaf, pressed over part of an upper front tooth, gave the effect of a large gold filling, whenever she smiled.