The Loudwater Mystery | Page 2

vile temper had been

consistently revolting. She once more told herself that something would
have to be done about it--not on the instant, however. At the moment
there appeared to her to be months to do it in. She dropped her cigarette
end into the ash-tray, and with it any further consideration of the
manners and disposition of Lord Loudwater.
She lit another cigarette and let her thoughts turn to that far more
appealing subject, Colonel Antony Grey. They turned to him readily
and wholly. In less than three minutes she was seeing his face and
hearing certain tones in his voice with amazing clearness. Once she
looked at the clock impatiently. It was half-past ten. She would not see
him till three--four and a half hours. It seemed a long while to her.
However, she could go on thinking about him. She did.
While she considered her ill-tempered husband her eyes had been hard
and almost shallow. While she considered Colonel Grey, they grew soft
and deep. Her lips had been set and almost thin; now they grew most
kissable.
Lord Loudwater finished his breakfast, the scowl on his face fading
slowly to a frown. He lit a cigar and with a moody air went to his
smoking-room. The criminal carelessness of the cat Melchisidec still
rankled.
As he entered the room, half office and half smoking-room, Mr.
Herbert Manley, his secretary, bade him good morning. Lord
Loudwater returned his greeting with a scowl.
Mr. Herbert Manley had one of those faces which begin well and end
badly. He had a fine forehead, lofty and broad, a well-cut,
gently-curving-nose, a slack, thick-lipped mouth, always a little open, a
heavy, animal jaw, and the chin of an eagle. His fine, black hair was
thin on the temples. His moustache was thin and straggled. His black
eyes were as good as his brow, intelligent, observant, and alert. It was
plain that had his lips been thinner and his chin larger he would not
have been the secretary of Lord Loudwater--or of any one else. He
would have been a masterless man. The success of two one-act plays on
the stage of the music-halls had given him the firm hope of one day

becoming a masterless man as a successful dramatist. His post gave
him the leisure to write plays. But for the fact that it brought him into
such frequent contact with the Lord Loudwater it would have been a
really pleasant post: the food was excellent; the wine was good; the
library was passable; and the servants, with the exception of James
Hutchings, liked and respected him. He had the art of making himself
valued (at far more than his real worth, said his enemies), and his air of
importance continuously impressed them.
With a patient air he began to discuss the morning's letters, and ask for
instructions. Lord Loudwater was, as often happened, uncommonly
captious about the letters. He had not recovered from the shock the
inconsiderate Melchisidec had given his nerves. The instructions he
gave were somewhat muddled; and when Mr. Manley tried to get them
clearer, his employer swore at him for an idiot. Mr. Manley persisted
firmly through much abuse till he did get them clear. He had come to
consider his employer's furies an unfortunate weakness which had to be
endured by the holder of the post he found so advantageous. He
endured them with what stoicism he might.
Lord Loudwater in a bad temper always produced a strong impression
of redness for a man whose colouring was merely red-brown. Owing to
the fact that his fierce, protruding blue eyes were red-rimmed and
somewhat bloodshot, in moments of emotion they shone with a curious
red glint, and his florid face flushed a deeper red. In these moments Mr.
Manley had a feeling that he was dealing with a bad-tempered red bull.
His employer made very much the same impression on other people,
but few of them had the impression of bullness so clear and so
complete as did Mr. Manley. Lady Loudwater, on the other hand, felt
always, whether her husband was ramping or quiet, that she was
dealing with a bad-tempered bull.
Presently they came to the end of the letters. Lord Loudwater lit
another cigar, and scowled thoughtfully. Mr. Manley gazed at his
scowling face and wondered idly whether he would ever light on
another human being whom he would detest so heartily as he detested
his employer. He thought it indeed unlikely. Still, when he became a

successful dramatist there might be an actor-manager--
Then Lord Loudwater said: "Did you tell Mrs. Truslove that after
September her allowance would be reduced to three hundred a year?"
"Yes," said Mr. Manley.
"What did she say?"
Mr. Manley hesitated; then he said diplomatically: "She did not seem