219
ible----"
"Forgive me," purred Daphne, "but I'm going to say we must fly. I'd no idea it was so late. People are coming to dinner, and we must go back by Brooch, because we've run out of ice."
Our host protested--not very heartily--and was overruled. Mutual regret was suitably expressed. Without more ado we descended into the hall. Here at the front door the decencies of leave-taking were observed. The host and hostesses were thanked, the parting guests sped. A moment later, we were sliding down the avenue to the lodge-gates. As we swung on to the road--
"Where's the book?" said Daphne. "That man's a liar."
"At Cholmondeley Street," said I. "But you're right about Vandy. He's trying to keep something back."
"He's so excited he doesn't know what to do," said Daphne. "That's clear."
"Well, what the deuce is it?" said Berry. "I've read the blinkin' book, but I'll swear there's nothing in it about buried treasure."
"Whatever it is," said I, "it's in that book. I'll get it to-morrow. D'you really want any ice?"
Daphne shook her head.
"But I couldn't stay there with that man another minute."
Adèle lifted up her sweet voice.
"I feel very guilty," she said. "I've upset you all, I've given everything away to your cousin with both hands, and I've----"
"Nonsense, darling," said Daphne. "You did the natural thing. How could you know----"
Jonah interrupted her with a laugh.
"One thing's certain," he said. "I'll bet old Vandy's cursing the day he rushed into print."
* * * * *
Upon reflection it seemed idle for any one of us to journey to London and back merely to fetch a volume, so the next morning one of the servants was dispatched instead, armed with a note to the housekeeper at Cholmondeley Street, telling her exactly where the book would be found.
The man returned as we were finishing dinner, and The History of the Pleydell Family was brought to Berry while we sat at dessert.
Nuts an