The Coast of Chance | Page 3

course; I know," Flora murmured. A faint twitch of humor pulled
her mouth, but the passionate romantic color was dying out of her face.
How was it that one's romances could be so cruelly pulled down to
earth? She ought to have learned by this time, she thought, never to fly
her little flag of romance except to an empty horizon--never, at least, to
fly it in Clara's face. It was always as promptly surrounded by Clara's
common sense as San Francisco would be surrounded by the police.

But still she couldn't quite come down to Clara. "At least," she sighed,
"he has saved me an awful expense, whoever took it, for I should have
had to have it."
Mrs. Britton surveyed this statement consideringly. "Was it the most
valuable thing in the collection?"
Flora hesitated in the face of the alert question. "I--don't know. But it
was the most remarkable. It was a Chatworth heirloom, the papers say,
and was given to Bessie at the time of her marriage." The thought of
the death that had so quickly followed that marriage gave Flora a little
shiver, but no shade of the tragedy touched Clara. There was nothing
but speculation in Clara's eyes--that, and a little disappointment. "Then
they will put off the auction--if it is really so," she mused.
"Oh, yes," Flora mourned, "they can put it off as long as they please.
The only thing I wanted is gone--and I hadn't even seen it."
"Well, I wouldn't be too sure. There may be some mistake about it. The
papers love a sensation."
"But there must be something in it, Clara. Why, they closed the doors
and searched them--that crowd! It's ridiculous!"
Clara Britton glanced at the empty place. "Then that must be what has
kept him."
"Who? Oh, Harry!" It took Flora a moment to remember she had been
expecting Harry. She hoped Clara had not noticed it. Clara always had
too much the assumption that she was taking him only as the
best-looking, best-natured, safest bargain presented. "He will be here,"
she reassured, "but I wish he would hurry. His dinner will be spoiled;
and, poor dear, he likes his dinner so much!"
The faint silver sound of the electric bell, a precipitate double peal,
seemed to uphold this statement. The women faced each other in a
moment's suspense, a moment of expectation, such as the advance
column may feel at sight of a scout hotfoot from the field of battle.

There were muffled movements in the hall, then light, even steps
crossing the drawing-room. Those light steps always suggested a slight
frame, and, as always, Flora was re-surprised at his bulk as now it
appeared between the parted curtains, the dull black and sharp white of
his evening clothes topped by his square, fresh-colored face.
[Illustration: YES, HE WAS MAGNIFICENT, SHE THOUGHT.]
"Well, Flora," he said, "I know I'm late," and took the hand she held to
him from where she sat. Her face danced with pleasure. Yes, he was
magnificent, she thought, as he crossed with his light stride to Mrs.
Britton's chair. He could even stand the harsh lines and lights of
evening clothes. He dominated their ugly convention with his height,
his face so ruddy and fresh under the pale brown of his hair, his alert,
assured, deft movement. His high good nature had the effect of
sweetening for him even Clara Britton's flavorless manner. The "We
were speaking of you," with which she saw him to his seat, had all the
warmth of a smile, but a smile far in the background of Flora's
immediate possession. Indeed, Flora had seldom had so much to say to
Harry as at this moment of her excitement over what he had actually
seen. For the evidence that he had seen something was vivid in his face.
She had never found him so splendidly alive. She had never seen him,
it came to her, quite like this before.
She shook the paper at him. "Tell us everything, instantly!"
He gaily acknowledged her right to make him thus stand and deliver.
He shot his hands into the air with the lightening vivacity that was in
him a sort of wit. "Not guilty," he grinned at her.
"Harry, you know you were in it. The papers have you the most
important personage."
"Oh, not all that," he denied her allegation. "They had the whole lot of
us cooped up together for investigation for as much as two hours. I
thought I shouldn't have time to dress! I'm as hungry as a hawk!" He
rolled it out with the full gusto with which he was by this time engaged
on his first course.

"Poor dear," said Flora with cooing mock-sympathy, "and did they
starve it? But would it mind telling us, now