"Hope, Anthony - Frivolous Cupid" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hope Anthony)

"`The lady thought you might come, sir. I think she expects you,
sir. Oh, you can rely on my discretion, sir.'

"I was rather surprised, but not very much, for I had hinted to
George Fitzmoine that I meant to try my luck, and I supposed that
he had passed my hint on to his sister. My predominant feeling
was one of gratification. Mary loved me! Mary expected me!
There was complete mental sympathy between Mary and myself!

"I went up to my room in a state of great contentment. I had
been there about half an hour when my friend the waiter came
in. Advancing toward me with a mysterious air, he took a blank
envelope out of his pocket and held it up before me with a
roguish smile.

"`Monsieur will know the handwriting inside,' he said cunningly.

"Now I had never corresponded with Lady Mary, and of course did
not know her handwriting, but I saw no use in telling the waiter
that. In truth, I thought the fellow quite familiar enough. So
I said shortly and with some hauteur:

"`Give me the note;' and I took another piece of gold out of my
pocket. We exchanged our possessions, the waiter withdrew with a
wink, and I tore open the precious note.

"`Whatever you do,' it ran, `don't recognize me. I am WATCHED.
As soon as I can I will tell you where to meet me. I knew you
would come.--M.'

"`The darling!' I exclaimed. `She's a girl of spirit. I'll take
good care not to betray her. Oh, we'll circumvent old Dibbs
between us.'

"At eight o'clock I went down to the salle a manger. It was
quite empty. Mary and Miss Dibbs no doubt dined in their own
sitting room, and there appeared to be no one else in the hotel.
However, when I was halfway through my meal, a stylishly dressed
young woman came in and sat down at a table at the end of the
room farthest from where I was. I should have noticed her more,
but I was in a reverie about Mary's admirable charms, and I only
just looked at her; she was frowning and drumming angrily with
her fingers on the table. The head waiter hurried up to her; his
face was covered with smiles, and he gave me a confidential nod
en passant. Nothing else occurred except that a villainous
looking fellow--something, to judge by his appearance, between a
valet and a secretary--thrust his ugly head through the door
three or four times. Whenever he did so the waiter smiled
blandly at him. He did it the last time just as the lady was
walking down the room. Seeing her coming he drew back and held