Bandit Love - Page 49/133

"I hate you, hate you, and I shall never forgive you for this!" burst

out Myra passionately, starting to her feet. "Go away at once, and

don't dare to come near me again. How dare you, how dare you kiss me

like that! If I were to tell Tony----"

She broke off with a sharp intake of breath, for at that moment the

butler tapped at the drawing room door and opened it.

"Mr. Standish," he announced; and Tony walked in, as if he were an

actor taking his "cue."

Antony Standish could (but didn't) boast of a 'Varsity education, and

he prided himself on his smartness, but he was far from being "gleg at

the uptak'," as the Scots say, and his powers of observation and

deduction assuredly would not have qualified him for a position as a

Scotland Yard "sleuth." Seemingly he was quite unconscious of the

electrical atmosphere as he entered, and quite failed to notice Myra's

agitation.

"Hullo, Don Carlos! What a surprise!" he cried breezily. "How are

you, old fellow? ... Hello, Myra, my dear. Thought I'd blow in on the

chance of finding you at home this beastly afternoon and cadge a cup of

tea.... Where did you spring from, Don Carlos? Thought you were still

in Spain. Tremendously glad to see you again, old man. When did you

get back? You're looking tremendously fit."

"Thank you," said Don Carlos, forcing a smile as he shook hands. "I

got back to London less than an hour ago, and hastened to call on Miss

Rostrevor to assure her of my undying regard--and to redeem a promise."

He darted a side glance at Myra, who was nervously biting her lips and

trying to compose herself.

"Awfully nice of you, old chap. Glad you're back," drawled the

unobservant Tony. "I say, Myra, dear, aren't you going to offer me a

cup of tea? I suppose I may smoke as Lady Fermanagh isn't here?"

Myra found herself at a loss to know how to deal with the situation.

To tell Tony what had happened would inevitably lead to a painful

scene, perhaps even to violence; to refrain from telling him would seem

like condoning Don Carlos's conduct. She was torn by conflicting

emotions and could not make up her mind how to act. Act, however, she

did, in a literal sense, for although her heart was still throbbing

wildly and her mind was in a whirl, she managed somehow to assume an

almost casual air.