Under Cover - Part 21
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Part 21

"But you've had a lot of business to attend to," she reminded him.

"That's finished two weeks ago."

"And then you've had the insidious Lambart and all the Scotch you wanted."

"'Tisn't nearly as much fun to drink when you're away," he insisted. "It always takes the sport out of it not to be stopped."

"Oh, Fibber!" she said, shaking her head.

"Well, most of the sport," he corrected. He held her off at arm's length and regarded her with admiration. "Do you know, I sometimes wonder what ever made you marry me."

"Sometimes I wonder, too," she answered, "but not often! I really think we're the ideal married couple, sentimental when we're alone, and critical when we have guests."

"That's true," he admitted proudly, "and most people hate each other in private and love each other in public." Michael hugged her to emphasize the correctness of their marital deportment.

"You are a dear old thing," she said affectionately.

"Do you know I don't feel a bit married," he returned boyishly, "I just feel in love."

"That's the nicest thing you ever said to me," she said, rising and kissing him. "But I've got to go and find Ethel now."

"You've made me feel fairly dizzy," he a.s.serted, still holding her hand, "I need a drink to sober up."

"Oh, Michael," she cried reprovingly, and drew away from him "I believe you've been trying to get around me just for that!"

"Oh, no, you don't," he said smiling. "Now, do you?"

"No, I don't, Mikey," she admitted. "But be careful, here's Monty and Nora."

"Heavens!" cried Nora, looking in, "still lecturing, you two?"

"You do look rather henpecked," Monty said, addressing his host.

"Yes," Michael sighed, "we've been having a dreadful row, but I'm of a forgiving nature and I'm going to reward her. Monty, touch that b.u.t.ton there, I want Lambart."

Alice looked at him in wonderment. "What do you mean?"

"Wait," he said with a chuckle. "Lambart," he commanded, as the butler stood before him, "bring it in." There was respect in his tone. "It ought to be at its best now."

On a silver salver Lambart bore in and presented to his mistress a large liqueur gla.s.s filled with a clear liquid of delicate mauve hue.

Alice looked at it a little fearfully. "Oh, Mikey," she said, "is this another new invention?"

"My best," he said proudly.

"Can't I share it?" she pleaded.

"No more than I can my heart," he said firmly. "It is to be named after you."

Heroically she gulped it down.

"Oh, how sweet it is," she exclaimed.

"I know," he admitted. "But as it isn't sugar you needn't mind. I use saccharin which is about a thousand times as sweet. And the beauty of saccharin," he confided to the others, "is that it stays with you. When I first discovered this Creme d'Alicia as I call it, I tasted it for days."

"It's a perfectly divine color," Nora remarked enthusiastically. "I've always dreamed of a dress exactly that shade. How did you do it?"

"Experimenting with the coal tar dyes," he said proudly. "I'm getting rather an expert on coal tar compounds. That color was Perkins' mauve."

"That was more than mauve," Nora insisted. "I've plenty of mauve things."

He raised his hand. "No you don't, Nora! You don't get the result of my years of close study like that. I'll make you each a present of a bottle before you go. We'll have it with coffee every night. Mauve was the foundation upon which I built."

"It's a little rich for me, Mikey dear," his wife said anxiously. "I think it will make a far better winter cordial. I'm going upstairs to see Ethel now."

He watched her disappear and then turned to Nora and Monty with a twinkle in his eye. "I think after my labors I need a little c.o.c.ktail.

In France they call this the _heure de l'aperitif_, as Monty probably knows, and I have a private bar of my own. Don't give me away, children."

Nora looked at her companion with a frown. She had been looking for his coming, and now when he was here, he had nothing to say.

"What's the matter with you?" she demanded suddenly.

"I'm wondering where Steven is," he returned anxiously. "A blow-out oughtn't to keep him all this time."

"But what makes you jump so?" she insisted. "You never used to be like this. Is it St. Vitus's dance?"

He turned to her with an a.s.sumption of freedom from care.

"I am a bit nervous, Nora," he admitted. "You see, Steven and I are in a big deal together, and, er, the markets go up and down like the temperature and it keeps me sorts of anxious."

"You don't mean to say you've gone into business?" she said.

"Not exactly," he prevaricated, "and yet I have in a way. It's something secret."

"Well," said Nora, with sound common sense, "if it frightens you so, why go in for it?"

"Well, everything was kind of tepid in Paris," he explained.

"Tepid in Paris?" she cried.

"Why, yes," he told her. "Paris can't always live up to her reputation.

I'd been there studying French banking systems so long that I wanted some excitement and joined Steve in his scheme."

"Oh, Monty," she said interested, and sitting on the couch at his side, "if it's really exciting, tell me everything. Are you being pursued?"

He looked at her aggrieved. "Now what do you suggest that for?" he demanded.

"But what is it?" she insisted.