The Little Nugget | Page 7

mind going, Mr Mennick?'
'I am sorry to appear discourteous, Mrs Ford, but I cannot go without
Ogden.'
'I shall telephone to the office to send up a porter to remove you.'
'I shall take advantage of his presence to ask him to fetch a policeman.'
In the excitement of combat the veneer of apologetic diffidence was
beginning to wear off Mr Mennick. He spoke irritably. Cynthia
appealed to his reason with the air of a bored princess descending to
argument with a groom.
'Can't you see for yourself that he's not here?' she said. 'Do you think
we are hiding him?'
'Perhaps you would like to search my bedroom?' said Mrs Ford,
flinging the door open.
Mr Mennick remained uncrushed.
'Quite unnecessary, Mrs Ford. I take it, from the fact that he does not
appear to be in this suite, that he is downstairs making a late luncheon
in the restaurant.'
'I shall telephone--'
'And tell them to send him up. Believe me, Mrs Ford, it is the only
thing to do. You have my deepest sympathy, but I am employed by Mr
Ford and must act solely in his interests. The law is on my side. I am
here to fetch Ogden away, and I am going to have him.'
'You shan't!'
'I may add that, when I came up here, I left Mrs Sheridan--she is a

fellow-secretary of mine. You may remember Mr Ford mentioning her
in his telegram--I left her to search the restaurant and grill-room, with
instructions to bring Ogden, if found, to me in this room.'
The door-bell rang. He went to the door and opened it.
'Come in, Mrs Sheridan. Ah!'
A girl in a plain, neat blue dress entered the room. She was a small,
graceful girl of about twenty-five, pretty and brisk, with the air of one
accustomed to look after herself in a difficult world. Her eyes were
clear and steady, her mouth sensitive but firm, her chin the chin of one
who has met trouble and faced it bravely. A little soldier.
She was shepherding Ogden before her, a gorged but still sullen Ogden.
He sighted Mr Mennick and stopped.
'Hello!' he said. 'What have you blown in for?'
'He was just in the middle of his lunch,' said the girl. 'I thought you
wouldn't mind if I let him finish.'
'Say, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Ogden crossly. 'Can't a
fellow have a bit of grub in peace? You give me a pain.'
Mr Mennick explained.
'Your father wishes you to return to Eastnor, Ogden.'
'Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go, then. Good-bye, ma.'
Mrs Ford choked.
'Kiss me, Ogden.'
Ogden submitted to the embrace in sulky silence. The others comported
themselves each after his or her own fashion. Mr Mennick fingered his
chin uncomfortably. Cynthia turned to the table and picked up an
illustrated paper. Mrs Sheridan's eyes filled with tears. She took a
half-step towards Mrs Ford, as if about to speak, then drew back.
'Come, Ogden,' said Mr Mennick gruffly. Necessary, this Hired
Assassin work, but painful--devilish painful. He breathed a sigh of
relief as he passed into the corridor with his prize.
At the door Mrs Sheridan hesitated, stopped, and turned.
'I'm sorry,' she said impulsively.
Mrs Ford turned away without speaking, and went into the bedroom.
Cynthia laid down her paper.
'One moment, Mrs Sheridan.'
The girl had turned to go. She stopped.
'Can you give me a minute? Come in and shut the door. Won't you sit

down? Very well. You seemed sorry for Mrs Ford just now.'
'I am very sorry for Mrs Ford. Very sorry. I hate to see her suffering. I
wish Mr Mennick had not brought me into this.'
'Nesta's mad about that boy,' said Cynthia. 'Heaven knows why. I never
saw such a repulsive child in my life. However, there it is. I am sorry
for you. I gathered from what Mr Mennick said that you were to have a
good deal of Ogden's society for some time to come. How do you feel
about it?'
Mrs Sheridan moved towards the door.
'I must be going,' she said. 'Mr Mennick will be waiting for me.'
'One moment. Tell me, don't you think, after what you saw just now,
that Mrs Ford is the proper person to have charge of Ogden? You see
how devoted she is to him?'
'May I be quite frank with you?'
'Please.'
'Well, then, I think that Mrs Ford's influence is the worst possible for
Ogden. I am sorry for her, but that does not alter my opinion. It is
entirely owing to Mrs Ford that Ogden is what he is. She spoiled him,
indulged him in every way, never checked him--till he has
become--well, what you yourself called him, repulsive.'
Cynthia