Bones in London - Page 35/130

"Don't stir, dear old thing," he pleaded in a husky whisper. "Pretend

not to notice, dear old Ham. Don't be nervous--wonderful young

lady----"

Then, clearing his throat noisily, "Come in!" he roared in the tone

that a hungry lion might have applied to one of the early Christian

martyrs who was knocking by mistake on the door of his den.

In spite of all injunctions, Hamilton did look, and he did stare, and

he did take a great deal of notice, for the girl who came in was well

worth looking at. He judged her to be about the age of twenty-one.

"Pretty" would be too feeble a word to employ in describing her. The

russet-brown hair, dressed low over her forehead, emphasized the

loveliness of eyes set wide apart and holding in their clear depths all

the magic and mystery of womanhood.

She was dressed neatly. He observed, too, that she had an open book

under her arm and a pencil in her hand, and it dawned upon him slowly

that this radiant creature was--Bones's secretary!

Bones's secretary!

He stared at Bones, and that young man, very red in the face, avoided

his eye.

Bones was standing by the desk, in the attitude of an after-dinner

speaker who was stuck for the right word. In moments of extreme

agitation Bones's voice became either a growl or a squeak--the bottom

register was now in exercise.

"Did--did you want me, young miss?" he demanded gruffly.

The girl at the door hesitated.

"I'm sorry--I didn't know you were engaged. I wanted to see you about

the Abyssinian----"

"Come in, come in, certainly," said Bones more gruffly than ever. "A

new complication, young miss?"

She laid a paper on the desk, taking no more notice of Hamilton than if

he were an ornament on the chimney-piece.

"The first instalment of the purchase price is due to-day," she said.

"Is it?" said Bones, with his extravagant surprise. "Are you certain,

young miss? This day of all days--and it's a Thursday, too," he added

unnecessarily.

The girl smiled and curled her lip, but only for a second.

"Well, well," said Bones, "it's a matter of serious importance. The

cheque, jolly old young miss, we will sign it and you will send it off.

Make it out for the full amount----"

"For the three thousand pounds?" said the girl.

"For the three thousand pounds," repeated Bones soberly. He put in his

monocle and glared at her. "For the three thousand pounds," he

repeated.

She stood waiting, and Bones stood waiting, he in some embarrassment as

to the method by which the interview might be terminated and his

secretary dismissed without any wound to her feelings.

"Don't you think to-morrow would do for the cheque?" she asked.

"Certainly, certainly," said Bones. "Why not? To-morrow's Friday,

ain't it?"