The Case and The Girl | Page 5

inquiries, as that did not interest me in the
least. I am prepared to be confessed to, however, if you feel it
necessary."
"I may have to confess later. Just now it might be better to let matters
remain as they are. And so this review satisfied you that I was really the
man you sought?"
"No, it did not wholly satisfy, but it looked promising. You were
evidently courageous, and a gentleman. These qualities were essential;
whether in other respects you measured up to my purpose, could only
be ascertained through a personal interview. There was no other way."
"And now?" he persisted.
"Still encouraging. I must admit, although the test is not yet complete.
However, we are now approaching the end of our journey. Before we
turn in I am going to ask a favour of you--call me Natalie."
"Natalie; that will be easy."

"And also forgive me if I fail in always addressing you formally as
Captain West. I presume your friends say Matt, do they not?"
"Some have that habit."
"Then I claim also the privilege."
She bewildered him, left him in wonderment as to what she would do
next, but there was scarcely time in which to answer before the
speeding limousine turned abruptly into a private drive-way, curving
gracefully to the front of a rather imposing stone mansion, set well
back from the road. West caught a glimpse of a green lawn, a maze of
stables at the rear, and a tennis-court with several busily engaged
players. Then they were at the side entrance, and a servant, in the same
unobtrusive livery as the chauffeur, was quietly opening the door. He
turned and helped his companion to emerge.
"Take the gentleman's bag to the Blue Room, Sexton," she said calmly,
"and then lay out his evening clothes."
"Yes, miss."
"I will be in the hall when you come down, Captain, but there is no
hurry."
West followed the servant up the softly carpeted stairs, finding the
apartment assigned him not only extremely comfortable, but even
elegant in its furnishing. He stood at the window looking down on the
tennis court, while Sexton opened the bag, and spread out the required
garments on the bed. Evidently he was in a home of wealth and
refinement. The grounds outspread before his eyes were spacious and
attractive; in the distance he even perceived an artificial lake with paths
winding enticingly along its shore, and through strips of woodland.
Who could this strange girl be? this Natalie Coolidge? And what could
she possible desire of him? These questions remained unanswered, yet
continually tantalized. He could not even grasp her personality. In spite
of her apparent friendliness, her irresistible smile, her lack of
conventionality, there remained a certain reserve about the young

woman he felt quite unable to penetrate. Whatever game she was
playing she kept the cards securely in her own hands. He was not yet
admitted to her confidence. He stood there immersed in these thoughts
still, when Sexton spoke.
"Shall I assist you, sir?"
"No; it will not be necessary. You have laid out everything?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well; that will do, at present. What is the hour for dinner?"
"Seven o'clock, sir."
"I have ample time then. That will be all." The man retired noiselessly,
closing the door after him, and West began slowly to dress, rather
amused at the care he took, that all details should be as correct as
possible. Unquestionably the girl interested him oddly. She was
original, a new type, and he made no effort to drive her from his
imagination. He had not been long back from the war zone, his
acquaintance in the city was extremely limited, and consequently this
girl, thus suddenly brought into his life, had made a far greater
impression than she might otherwise. Yet under any conditions, she
would have proven noticeable, and attractive. He endeavoured to
analyse what constituted this peculiar attractiveness, but without
arriving at any definite conclusion. She was young, of course, and
undeniably pretty, with eyes really remarkable, and a smile not to be
easily forgotten. She possessed a sense of humour, and had left upon
him a strong impression of frank sincerity. Yet in these qualities she
did not differ so greatly from others he had known. Perhaps mystery
had much to do with her power of enticement--a continual wonderment
as to what she might do next. Then she was so self-poised, so confident
of herself, so naturally informed. All these things had their charm, and,
coupled with her undoubted beauty, left his brain in a whirl.
He was satisfactorily dressed at last, although obliged to switch on the
lights before this was accomplished. The reflection of himself in the

pier glass quite met his deliberate approval, and he glanced inquiringly
at his