Clayton did not care to tell Natalie of Chris's flight. She would learn
it soon enough, he knew, and he felt unwilling to discuss the affair as
Natalie would want to discuss it. Not that he cared about Chris, but he
had begun to feel a protective interest in Audrey Valentine, an interest
that had in it a curious aversion to hearing her name in connection with
Chris's sordid story.
He and Natalie met rarely in the next few days. He dined frequently at
his club with men connected in various ways with the new enterprise, and
transacted an enormous amount of business over the dinner or luncheon
table. Natalie's door was always closed on those occasions when he
returned, and he felt that with the stubbornness characteristic of her
she was still harboring resentment against him for what he had said at
the hospital.
He knew she was spending most of her days at Linndale, and he had a
vague idea that she and Rodney together had been elaborating still
further on the plans for the house. It was the furtiveness of it rather
than the fact itself that troubled him. He was open and straightforward
himself. Why couldn't Natalie be frank with him?
It was Mrs. Haverford, punctually paying her dinner-call in an age which
exacts dinner-calls no longer--even from its bachelors--who brought
Natalie the news of Chris's going. Natalie, who went down to see her
with a mental protest, found her at a drawing-room window, making
violent signals at somebody without, and was unable to conceal her
amazement.
"It's Delight," explained Mrs. Haverford. "She's driving me round. She
won't come in, and she's forgotten her fur coat. And it's simply bitter
outside. Well, my dear, how are you?"
Natalie was well, and said so. She was conscious that Mrs. Haverford
was listening with only half an ear, and indeed, a moment later she had
risen again and hurried to the window.
"Natalie!" she cried. "Do come and watch. She's turning the car. We do
think she drives wonderfully. Only a few days, too."
"Why won't she come in?"
"I'm sure I don't know. Unless she is afraid Graham may be here."
"What in the world has Graham got to do with it?" Natalie's voice was
faintly scornful.
"I was going to ask you that, Natalie. Have they quarreled, or
anything?"
"I don't think they meet at all, do they?"
"They met once since Clayton gave Doctor Haverford the car. Graham
helped her when she had got into a ditch, I believe. And I thought
perhaps they had quarreled about something."