The Official Chaperon - free ebook by Natalie Sumner Lincoln

THE OFFICIAL CHAPERON

BY NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN AUTHOR of “C. O. D.,” “THE TREVOR CASE,” ETC. ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK AND LONDON D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1915 THE OFFICIAL CHAPERON...

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CHAPTER I AN ILL WIND

“W ashington , Washington; all off for Washington!” The porter’s stentorian call echoed through the Pullman sleeper. “This way out.” A second more and the aisle was filled with sleepy passengers who strove to push past each other with the impatient rudeness which characterizes the average American traveler. The last to leave the car was a tall man, whose leisurely movements left him a prey to a hovering porter, and he surrendered his suit-case to the obsequious darky, after first inquiring the w

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CHAPTER II MISSING

“Y ou are, then, absolutely positive that Miss Langdon called up Mr. Barnard the last thing before leaving this room yesterday afternoon?” questioned Rear Admiral Lawrence, with such quiet persistence that pretty Nurse Allen opened her eyes in wonder. “I cannot swear that it was the last thing Miss Langdon did before leaving here,” she answered, somewhat dryly. “I only know I found her at the telephone when I came in to ring up Dr. McLane, and I overheard her address the person she was speaking

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CHAPTER III QUESTIONS AND QUERIES

M arjorie Langdon contemplated her small wardrobe as it lay spread out before her on the bed, and then gazed at the passbook open in her hand. She saw the slender balance remaining to her credit at the bank through diminishing glasses, and despair tugged at her heart-strings. “The way of the bread-winner is hard,” she paraphrased bitterly. “I don’t wonder there are so many transgressors in the world. Bless my soul, Minerva, what do you want?” The colored woman, who had entered the bedroom unnoti

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CHAPTER IV TEMPTING FATE

M arjorie , on her way out to keep her appointment with Mrs. Calderon Fordyce, paused in the hall to examine the mail which Minerva, deeply engrossed in the arrival of Miss Rebekah Graves, had deposited on the hat-stand and forgotten. Two of the envelopes contained circulars, and she tossed them back on the marble stand, but the third was a note from their family lawyer curtly informing Marjorie that the savings bank in which Madame Yvonett kept a small reserve account, had failed, and asking he

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CHAPTER V GIVE AND TAKE

“D oes everything look in order in the dining-room, Duncan?” inquired Mrs. Fordyce anxiously, on her son’s entrance, laying down the magazine she was reading. “Of course it is, dear mother,” he replied, sitting down on the lounge beside her. “You can always trust Perkins to arrange the table decorations to the Queen’s taste. Why so anxious tonight?” “It is our first dinner-party in Washington, and I want everything to go off well for Janet’s sake. First impressions count for so much.” Duncan lau

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CHAPTER VI AT FORT MYER

“T his way, sir; your seats are in the upper gallery,” announced a cavalry corporal. “Right up here, miss,” and he assisted Janet up the first steps of the narrow stairway, then made way for Chichester Barnard who followed her. “Let me see your tickets, please,” continued the corporal as Duncan Fordyce appeared at his elbow, Marjorie in his wake. “Very sorry, sir, but these seats are in the north gallery at the other end of the riding-hall. You’ll have to go outside to get there, sir.” “Thunderi

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CHAPTER VII TREASURE TROVE

M inerva glared at her image in the glass she was polishing with unusual diligence. “A cleanin’ an’ a cleanin’,” she exclaimed rebelliously. “Miss Rebekah don’t hardly ’low me time ter eat. Miss Marjorie didn’t never turn me inter a—a—flyin’ squadron”—Minerva hadn’t the faintest idea of the meaning of “flying squadron,” but she had picked up the words while waiting at table, and they sounded big enough to express her state of mind. “An’ I ain’t gwine ter church termorro’, nohow; las’ time I went

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CHAPTER VIII THE ONLY WOMAN

“A lmost the amount,” mused Marjorie folding the letter and placing it carefully away in the top drawer of her bureau. “The company will have to take it and wait for the remainder. I can do no more,” and she turned dejectedly in her chair and surveyed her room, the dainty furnishings of which left nothing to be desired in point of taste and comfort. Mrs. Fordyce had given Marjorie the large double room on the second bedroom floor, and adjoining Janet’s, the two girls using the communicating dres

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CHAPTER IX GAY DECEIVERS

M rs. Calhoun-Cooper contemplated her daughter with distinct admiration, albeit mixed with some alarm. “My dear Pauline,” she said, lowering her lorgnette. “I have seldom seen you look so well, but—eh—don’t you think your gown is a trifle too—too pronounced?” “Of course it isn’t.” Pauline revolved slowly, the better to show the expensive Paquin model which she was wearing. “Nothing is extreme these days; I mean everything is extreme.” “Hello, why the beauty show?” demanded Joe from the doorway o

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CHAPTER X IN THE COLD, GRAY DAWN

C hichester Barnard slipped off his evening coat and put on his smoking-jacket, and pausing in front of his chiffonier, gazed hungrily at a photograph of Marjorie Langdon leaning against his shaving-glass. The edges were cut evenly, and to the most casual eye it was obvious that the picture had been taken from a large silver frame from whose center smiled a speaking likeness of Janet Fordyce. Barnard picked up Marjorie’s photograph and studied it long and intently, and gradually the features ass

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CHAPTER XI GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Lawrence. On Monday, December 24, Margaret A., beloved wife of Stephen Lawrence, Rear Admiral, U. S. N., aged sixty-two years. Funeral from her late residence on Wednesday at two o’clock. Interment at Arlington. Kindly omit flowers. Chichester Barnard stared at the printed notice in the death column, then let the newspaper slip from his fingers to the floor. On looking up he caught the direct gaze of Duncan Fordyce, who had entered the smoking-room some time before, and was observing his changin

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CHAPTER XII A TANGLED WEB

E arlier that same afternoon Janet had started for Madame Yvonett’s residence intending to join Marjorie there, but as she crossed Dupont Circle into Massachusetts Avenue, an automobile drew up alongside the curb, and a cheery voice hailed her. “This is luck,” exclaimed Tom Nichols, springing out of his roadster, and clasping her hand warmly. “Where are you going Miss Janet?” “Down to see Madame Yvonett,” Janet’s piquant face dimpled into a smiling welcome. “Fine! I was just on the way to her ho

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CHAPTER XIII DUNCAN’S DILEMMA

P auline Calhoun-Cooper laid down her embroidery with a resigned sigh as her brother, after striding moodily up and down the drawing-room, made a sudden dash for the door. “Where are you going, Joe?” she called. “Out——” and the front door banged shut behind him. Pauline’s lips curved in an irritating smile. “Your ‘poy Joe’ gets more impossible every day, mother. I think father had better be told——” “No you don’t, young lady,” Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper spoke with unwonted authority. “I won’t permit any

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CHAPTER XIV THE PHILANDERER

“S o it’s off with the old love?” “My dear Kathryn, it was never on,” Barnard looked squarely at the pretty nurse facing him, a faint trace of distress visible in his polished manner. “When I called to see my aunt, Mrs. Lawrence, I always showed you the civility and attention which I accord to any woman; that you chose to attach a deeper meaning——” he shrugged his shoulders. “I very deeply regret the—misunderstanding.” Kathryn Allen’s gaze shifted from his face to the desk, and she saw the ornam

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CHAPTER XV IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING

K athryn Allen tore open the note with impatient fingers. My Darling , [she read], Pauline tells me Janet Fordyce and Chichester Barnard frequently take tea at the Brown Tea Pot. I don’t know why you asked me to find out, but, sweetheart, your word is law to your devoted Joe . P. S. How the hours drag! I only live when with you. Joe might have spared himself the postscript. Kathryn did not even trouble to read it. Crumpling the note into a small ball she tossed it into the scrap basket and risin

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CHAPTER XVI A TUG OF WAR

R epresentative J. Calhoun-Cooper laid down his pen and regarded his wife in some surprise. “Are you going to church, Augusta?” “No, I attended the morning services.” She ensconced herself in a chair near him. “Pauline told me that you wish to see me.” “Quite right; but I had no idea you were going out,” Calhoun-Cooper hesitated. “However, I will not keep you long. Can you tell me who are Joe’s associates in Washington?” His wife stirred uneasily. “Do you mean men or girls?” “Both.” “Pauline’s f

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CHAPTER XVII OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN

M rs. Fordyce awoke from her nap to discover Janet earnestly regarding her from the depths of a big tufted arm-chair. “Bless me, Cutie!” she ejaculated. “Have I been asleep?” “You certainly have,” admitted Janet laughing. It was not often her mother called her by the familiar, schoolgirl nickname. “And snoring, too.” “Janet!” “Well, just a little snore,” hastily, noting her mother’s offended expression. “I wouldn’t have disturbed you, mumsie, dear, if I hadn’t thought Marjorie was here with you.

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CHAPTER XVIII LIGHT-FINGERED GENTRY

T om Nichols passed down the long line of the receiving party at the Charity Ball and paused near the north end of the New Willard ballroom and looked about him. The floor was thronged with dancers, and from where he stood it was impossible to make out the occupants of the boxes which lined the length of the room on both sides. He waited for some minutes, hoping that at the end of the dance he would be able to walk about the floor, but the music was continuous, the Marine Band breaking into a fo

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CHAPTER XIX FALSE WITNESS

M arjorie handed the menu back to the chef, gave him the completed marketing list, added a few instructions, and made her way to the boudoir. There was no buoyancy in her step, and she looked wretchedly ill as she crossed the threshold into the sunlit room. If Mrs. Fordyce had not been deeply immersed in her own condition, she could hardly have failed to observe the deep circles under Marjorie’s eyes, and the hectic flush in each white cheek. Her sleepless night had left its telltale mark. “How

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CHAPTER XX WATCHFUL WAITING

“C an I see Dr. Potter?” inquired Duncan, handing his visiting-card to Mrs. Walbridge’s butler. “Mr. Fordyce, sir?” interrogatively, and Duncan nodded assent. “The Doctor is waiting for you, sir. Please step this way”—but before they reached the drawing-room, Paul Potter appeared in the hall. “Very glad to see you, Duncan,” he said warmly. “Nobody’s home but myself, so come into the Judge’s den; we can talk undisturbed there.” “I was detained in reaching here. I wanted particularly to see you al

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CHAPTER XXI THE STORM CENTER

M adame Yvonett , knitting industriously as she sat in the bow window of her small parlor, watched a smart victoria drive up to the curb and stop before her door. There was no one in the carriage, and thinking the coachman had made a mistake in the number of the house, she was about to ring for Minerva when that dusky maid-of-all-work appeared in the doorway, dressed in hat and coat. “’Scuse me, madam,” she said respectfully. “Hab Miss Rebekah come in?” “Not yet,” Minerva’s face fell; she had re

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CHAPTER XXII “TOUJOURS SANS TACHE”

O n leaving Duncan sitting in his roadster before the apartment house, Marjorie had every intention of slipping into the Portland through the drug store. Once safely inside the building she would take refuge in a friend’s apartment and there fight out her problems alone. The desire to confide in Duncan, to beg his assistance was overmastering. She dared not trust herself longer in his presence. In her doubt and agony, and longing for his sympathy, she might betray her passionate love for him. A

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CHAPTER XXIII THE HEARING EAR

J anet , coming swiftly along the hall toward her mother’s bedroom, met a white-capped nurse advancing toward her. “How is mother?” she demanded. “Resting more easily now, Miss Fordyce; the medicine gave her almost immediate relief.” “Thank heaven!” Janet moved forward a few steps intending to enter her mother’s bedroom, but the nurse detained her. “I beg your pardon; your brother and Dr. Potter are with Mrs. Fordyce just now. Seeing so many together might overexcite her. Could you not come in a

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CHAPTER XXIV THE KINGDOM OF THE BLIND

M arjorie saw them at the same instant and for a second faltered, then stepped quietly forward to meet them. “Good evening,” she said. “Janet, here are the truants. I think you are to take me out to dinner, Dr. Potter,” and the hand she placed on the physician’s arm was steady. Duncan, collecting his scattered wits, offered his arm to the pretty girl Janet had assigned to him, and followed the others out to the dining-room. Judging from appearances his father and Janet had accepted Marjorie’s re

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CHAPTER XXV PHANTOMS OF THE NIGHT

K athryn Allen , taking care that her starched white nurse’s uniform made no crinkling sound, bent over Mrs. Fordyce and listened to her regular breathing. Satisfied that her patient was at last asleep, she arranged the night-light, placed several bottles and glasses on the bedstand, and left the room. Her rubber-soled shoes made no sound, and she passed through the empty rooms and halls in ghostly silence. First, she paid a lengthy visit to Marjorie’s old room, and when she emerged into the hal

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CHAPTER XXVI UNCOVERED

M arjorie and the others gazed at the physician in stupefied silence. “I mean exactly what I said,” he went on. “The girl was hypnotized.” “She wasn’t asleep,” protested Kathryn. “Her eyes were wide open, and her manner was perfectly natural. She knew what she was about.” “That is not surprising or unusual,” answered Potter. “In cases of animal magnetism the subject is awake; has returned to what may be called her normal state, is able to reflect, reason, and direct her conduct; and yet under th

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