"If I believed in signs and omens I should take this as an unmistakable invitation to me to hesitate no longer." He fingered the syringe thoughtfully. "And upon my soul I don't see why I shouldn't accept it as a sign. In any case"--all the pent-up bitterness of his soul found vent in the words--"in future what I do can have no interest for Iris Cheniston!"

As if the sound of the name, premature as it was, had put the finishing touch to his reckless cynicism, he hesitated no longer.

With an almost savage gesture he struck a match and lighted a candle on his writing-table; and as the little yellow flame sprang up, and strove, vainly, to enlighten the encompa.s.sing gloom, he set about his preparations with a sudden energy in striking contrast with his previous lethargy.

When all was ready there came a last second of hesitation. With the syringe in his hand, his arm bared, he paused, and for a last poignant moment Iris' face rose before him in the flickering light. But now her eyes had no power to move him from his purpose. Rather they maddened him with their steadfast radiance, and with a muttered oath he looked aside from that appealing vision and turned the key, recklessly, in the door which led to the Paradise of Fools.

Nearly an hour later the telephone bell rang, sharply, insistently in the hall. It went on ringing, again and again, a curiously vital sound in the quiet house; but Anstice did not hear it, and at length the ringing ceased.

It was nearly half an hour later when another bell rang, this time the bell of the front door; but again no answer came to the imperative summons. And now the bell rang on, so continuously, so persistently, that at last its sound penetrated the dulled hearing of the man who huddled in a corner of the big couch, mind and body alike dazed and incapable of making any effort to understand the meaning of this oddly insistent noise.

He was only conscious of a desire for it to cease; of a longing, not sufficiently vivid to be acute, but the strongest emotion of which he was at the moment capable, for a return to the silence which had hitherto prevailed; and although the noise disturbed and angered him it never occurred to him that to answer the summons would be the best way of ending the irritating sound.

So that bell too went unanswered; and in due course it also ceased to ring.

But that was not to be the end.

Dimly he heard the sound of voices, of footsteps in the hall, of the striking of a match and the hissing of the gas. Then there was a confused noise which was like and yet unlike a rapping on the panels of the door of the room in which he sat; but he felt no inclination whatever to move or make any response; and even when at length the door itself opened, slowly and tentatively, he merely looked up with languid curiosity to see what these phenomena might imply.

And in the doorway stood Iris Wayne, her face very pale, one hand holding a flimsy scarf about her, with Bruce Cheniston by her side.

CHAPTER XII

Chloe Carstairs had not been among the guests at Greengates that afternoon. In vain had Sir Richard and Lady Laura invited her, in vain had Iris added her entreaties. On this point Chloe was adamant, and although her brother argued with her for an hour or more on the advisability of making her reappearance in Littlefield society under the aegis of the Waynes, she merely shook her head with an inscrutable smile.

"If I cared to re-enter Littlefield society," she said calmly, "I should have done so long ago. But I am really so indifferent to those people that I have no desire to meet them, even as a guest at Greengates."

"I didn't suppose you wanted to meet them--for your own sake," retorted her brother, "for a duller and more stupid set of people were never born; but as Iris is to be your sister-in-law I think you might stretch a point and go with me to Greengates this afternoon."

But Chloe shook her head.

"No, Bruce. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it cannot be done. As you know, I am fond of Iris"--knowing his sister Bruce was quite satisfied with this moderate expression of her affection--"but I won't go to Greengates to-day, nor to the wedding to-morrow. If you like to bring Iris down to say good-bye this evening when all the people are gone I shall like to see her."

"All right." Bruce gave up the contest. "I'm staying on--quietly--to dinner; but I'll bring her down for half an hour afterwards."

"Very well." Chloe rose from the breakfast-table as she spoke, and sauntered to the window, from whence she looked over the pretty garden with appreciative eyes. "It is lucky the weather is so beautiful--Greengates will look at its best on a day like this."

And Bruce agreed heartily as he stepped on to the lawn to enjoy his after-breakfast pipe.

True to his promise Bruce motored his _fiancee_ over to Cherry Orchard in the gloaming of the September evening, after a somewhat protracted argument with Lady Laura, whose sense of propriety was, so she averred, outraged by the project.

Sir Richard, however, to whom the loss of his only daughter was a deep though hidden grief, gave his consent readily enough when he saw that Iris really wished to bid her friend good-bye; and making Bruce promise to bring her back in good time he himself went to the door to pack them safely into the motor.

"Take care of her, Bruce--she is very precious to me!" He laid his hand on the young man's arm, and his voice held an appeal which Bruce involuntarily answered.

"Trust me, sir!" There was a note of rather unusual feeling in his tone.

"She can't be more precious to you than she is to me!"

And with the words he got his car in motion and glided away down the dusky, scented avenue beneath the tall trees which had not, as yet, put off their summer tints for their autumn livery of scarlet and gold.

Somehow they did not talk much as they sped on through the cool, perfumed night. Both, indeed, felt a sense of shyness in each other's company on this last evening; and it was with something like relief that they realized they were at Cherry Orchard in less time than they generally allowed for the little journey.

The hall door, as usual, stood hospitably open; but there was no sign of Chloe, waiting for them with her gracious welcome; and as they crossed the threshold both felt instinctively that something was wrong.

A moment later their suspicions were confirmed, for Hagyard, the manservant, who adored both his mistress and her small daughter, came forward to meet them with an air of relief which did not conceal the anxiety in his whole bearing.

"Mr. Cheniston--sir--there's been an accident--Miss Cherry--she's burnt----"

"Burnt!" Iris and Bruce echoed the word simultaneously; and the man hurried on.

"Yes, sir, yes, miss--Miss Cherry got playing with matches--Tochatti left her alone for a moment when she did not ought to have done"--in his distress his usual correctness of speech and deportment fell away from Hagyard, leaving him a mere human man--"and Miss Cherry's dress--a little flimsy bit of muslin it was, caught fire, and before it was put out she'd got burned----"

"Where is Mrs. Carstairs?"

"Upstairs with Miss Cherry, sir. We've been ringing up the doctor--but we can't get no answer----"

Bruce cut him short without ceremony.

"Come, Iris, let's see what's to be done. We can go ourselves and fetch the doctor, anyway."

Together they ran up the broad staircase, and Bruce led the way to Cherry's little room, where, as he guessed, the child was lying.

As they entered Chloe Carstairs looked round; and her eyes appeared almost black, so dilated were the pupils.

"Bruce!" Her deep voice held a note of relief. "You have come at last--now perhaps we can do something for the child."

"Is she badly burnt?" Iris approached softly and stood looking down at the moaning little figure in the bed.

"Yes." Chloe's manner was impressive by reason of its very quietness.

"She is--very badly burnt, and until the doctor comes we can do so little...."

"You have done _something_ for her?"

"Oh, yes--Tochatti and I have done all we can, but"--for a second Chloe's face quivered--"we can't do anything more, and I'm afraid if something isn't done soon----"

The child on the bed gave a sudden convulsive cry, and Chloe's white face grew still paler.

"You see--she's in horrible pain, and--oh, why doesn't the doctor come?

We've rung up again and again, and they've never answered!"