"I'm coming over to Worthing to-morrow, to see you," murmured Isbel, standing straight up, facing the door and Judge.
Without changing countenance or so much as looking at her, he bent down to insert the key in the hole.
"Certainly, Miss Loment."
"I'll come over by train in the morning. Can you meet me on the front, as if by accident? Do you know a train?"
"There's the 10.40 from Hove."
"That will do. Please don't say a word to anyone."
Without waiting for his response, she hastened to join her friends. The two girls resumed their wraps, and got into the back seat. Judge took his place behind the wheel, and lastly Roger climbed in. After a little preliminary backing, they made a clear start down the drive.
At the lodge-gate they stopped for a minute, while Mrs. Priday called her husband out, in obedience to Judge's request. The head gardener was in the middle of tea, and his mouth was still busily engaged, in spite of his efforts to empty it.
"Priday," said his master, leaning out of the car towards him, "one of the ladies has lost a scarf somewhere on the grounds. It might be as far away as the stream by Moss's Wood. Have a good look round for it-to-day. It must be found."
"Colour, sir?"
Judge mutely transferred the inquiry to Isbel.
"Vieux rose. A long silk scarf."
"Pink, Priday. See to it at once. Good afternoon!"
Blanche paid a visit to Isbel's room that evening, during the dressing hour before dinner. Isbel, fully gowned, was sitting on a sofa, reading a magazine. Blanche had on the frock which she had worn on the occasion of the dinner-party; she refused to sit down, and altogether seemed rather unusual in her manner. Isbel, being in a highly sensitive mood, detected the presence of feminine electricity at once; she quietly set down her paper beside her, feeling more apprehension than she cared to admit to herself.
"What's the matter, Blanche?"
"Nothing. I've just looked in."
"I thought perhaps you wanted to say something…Well, have you enjoyed your day?"
"Oh, I expect so. Have you?"
"Yes-but I'm vexed about the scarf."
Blanche pointed her toes together and gazed down at the carpet. "Is it worth worrying about?"
"I hate losing things."
There was a pause.
"I know where it is-if that's any help to you," said Blanche quietly.
"You do?…Why, where is it?"
Her friend slowly lifted her eyes, until they stopped on Isbel's face. "In Judge's breast-pocket."
Isbel jumped up, then sat down again.
"What!"
"That's where it was, dear, at any rate, for I saw it there-peeping out."
"Oh, absurd!…What on earth should he be doing with my scarf?"
"I wonder you don't rather ask how it comes to be in his possession. You didn't give it to him, I presume?"
"I decidedly didn't. I'm not in the habit of giving articles of clothing to men."
Blanche pursed her lips for a second or two…"You certainly were wearing it when we went upstairs. You never came upstairs at all, and Judge never went downstairs. Yet the next time we meet him, it has become mysteriously transferred to his pocket. He hadn't even taken common precautions to hide it…Somewhat puzzling, don't you think?"
Danger signals appeared suddenly on Isbel's cheeks.
"You infer…?"
"Nothing, dearest. But if you're speaking the truth-as I hope, for your own sake, you are-then that man isn't. In any case, he isn't. A girl's scarf doesn't float upstairs and find it's way into a man's pocket of its own sweet will."
"Most likely it wasn't my scarf at all."
"My dear child, whatever else I don't know, I do know the contents of your wardrobe. You might put Roger off with that suggestion, but not me. It was your scarf."
Isbel bit her lip, and stared at the carpet beneath her.
"Then all I can say is, he must be pretty far gone. He has no right to it, and I don't know in the least what he's doing with it. Perhaps it's a form of mania with him."
"Yes-but you won't see the point. How did he get hold of it?"
"I expect after he had made his escape from you he slipped quietly down the servants' staircase and got into the hall that way. Finding me asleep, he appropriated the scarf. I can't think of any other solution."
"He may be a lunatic, of course," said Blanche, in her driest tone.
"Thanks! I quite understand what you're driving at all along."
Blanche said nothing. Isbel, after waiting in vain for her to speak, uttered a high, metallic laugh.
"Oh, I admit the evidence is overwhelmingly damning against both of us. You might as well be honest about it."
"For heaven's sake don't take up that tone! You must see for yourself how it compromises you. Instead of losing your temper, you had much better set about recovering your property. If I've seen it, somebody else may."
"From which I assume that you don't propose to acquaint the others with the details of this romantic affair?"
"I'm not a sneak. You ought to know me better than that."
Isbel gnawed away at her finger-nails.
"I came here to try and help you," went on Blanche. "It's not very encouraging to find myself treated as an interfering busybody."
"Oh, don't imagine I'm not grateful to you. It isn't everyone who would undertake such an unpalatable duty-I quite see that…Perhaps I should have been even more grateful to you for a little loyal backing up, but I see your point of view perfectly. I've no right to expect other people to behave as quixotically as I should have done under similar circumstances. Every woman must act according to her nature."
"It will be time enough to show sympathy when I know it's wanted."
"And deserved. Don't spare me, I beg."
Blanche sat down slowly on the sofa. After a minute she impulsively seized her friend's hand.
"Billy, swear there's nothing between you and that man, and I'll believe you. I don't think you could tell me a direct lie. Up to the present we've always shared each other's secrets."
"I do swear that I haven't the faintest notion how that scarf got out of my possession, or into his. I'm as utterly mystified as you are."
"Sure?"
"Quite sure," said Isbel, colouring and smiling.
"Very well; that's all I wanted to hear. As long as it's all right on your side, his conduct is of quite secondary importance. I'm more relieved than I can tell you…But you'll have to get it back, by fair means or foul."
"I'll think it over to-night in bed."
Blanche gazed at her steadily, still holding her hand.
"If I were you, I should drop the acquaintance altogether. You won't derive much good from a man like that."
"You mean, give up the idea of his house?"
"There are plenty of other houses. Have you told your aunt yet about his change of decision?"
"No."
"That's good. Don't…Dash a line off to Judge to say it's all over. And you can mention about the scarf at the same time. Say you understand it's in his possession, and beg him to return it at once…You could almost do it now, before dinner."
"No, there isn't time," replied Isbel. And she found no time the whole of the evening.
In bed, the same night, she tossed for hours, tormenting her brain over the events of the day. As often as she had satisfactorily assured herself of the impossibility of her having given that scarf personally to Judge, the whole problem would break open again, like a badly-bandaged wound, and she would find herself once more searching in vain in all directions for some escape from the necessity of accepting this awful, unthinkable hypothesis.
Her thoughts travelled round and round in circles, and relief came to her at last only in absolute physical exhaustion.
Chapter XI ISBEL VISITS WORTHING
Immediately after the departure of Blanche and Roger next morning, Isbel-attired in an old, though still serviceable, tweed walking costume, with stout, low-heeled shoes-announced her intention of taking a long tramp on the downs by herself; she might, or might not, be back for lunch. It was the only programme she could think of in which her aunt would be certain not to offer to participate. Mrs. Moor, of course, raised some half-hearted objections-that was more in the nature of a ritual between the two ladies-but in the end Isbel got her way, and before ten o'clock she was out of the hotel. Not en route to the downs, however. At the top of Preston Street she caught a bus to Hove Station, and, on arriving there, purchased a ticket to Worthing.