The Bandbox

“Why wait? Send for it now. I’d like to see for myself, if there is anything: you see, you’ve roused a woman’s curiosity; I want to know. Let me send Jane.”

Without waiting for his consent, Alison summoned the maid. “Jane,” said she, “I want you to go to Mr. Staff’s stateroom – ”

“Excuse me,” Staff interrupted. “Find the steward named Orde and ask him for the bandbox I gave him to take care of. Then bring it here, please.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jane; and forthwith departed.

“And now – while we’re waiting,” suggested Alison – “the play, if you please.”

“Not yet,” said Staff. “I’ve something else to talk about that I’d forgotten. Manvers, the purser – ”

“Good Heavens!” Alison interrupted in exasperation. She rose, with a general movement of extreme annoyance. “Am I never to hear the last of that man? He’s been after me every day, and sometimes twice a day… He’s a personified pest!”

“But he’s right, you know,” said Staff quietly.

“Right! Right about what?”

“In wanting you to let him take care of that necklace – the what-you-may-call-it thing – the Cadogan collar.”

“How do you know I have it?”

“You admitted as much to Manvers, and Mrs. Ilkington says you have it.”

“But why need everybody know about it?”

“Enquire of Mrs. Ilkington. If you wanted the matter kept secret, why in the sacred name of the great god Publicity did you confide in that queen of press agents?”

“She had no right to say anything – ”

“Granted. So you actually have got that collar with you?”

“Oh, yes,” Alison admitted indifferently, “I have it.”

“In this room?”

“Of course.”

“Then be advised and take no chances.”

Alison had been pacing to and fro, impatiently. Now she stopped, looking down at him without any abatement of her show of temper.

“You’re as bad as all the rest,” she complained. “I’m a woman grown, in full possession of my faculties. The collar is perfectly safe in my care. It’s here, in this room, securely locked up.”

“But someone might break in while you’re out – ”

“Either Jane is here all the time, or I am. It’s never left to itself a single instant. It’s perfectly ridiculous to suppose we’re going to let anybody rob us of it. Besides, where would a thief go with it, if he did succeed in stealing it – overboard?”

“I’m willing to risk a small bet he’d manage to hide it so that it would take the whole ship’s company, and a heap of good luck into the bargain, to find it.”

“Well,” said the woman defiantly, “I’m not afraid, and I’m not going to be browbeaten by any scare-cat purser into behaving like a kiddie afraid of the dark. I’m quite competent to look after my own property, and I purpose doing so without anybody’s supervision. Now let’s have that understood, Staff; and don’t you bother me any more about this matter.”

“Thanks,” said Staff drily; “I fancy you can count on me to know when I’m asked to mind my own business.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that – not that way, dear boy – but – ”

At this juncture the maid entered with the bandbox, and Alison broke off with an exclamation of diverted interest.

“There! Let’s say no more about this tiresome jewel business. I’m sure this is going to prove ever so much more amusing. Open it, Jane, please.”

In another moment the hat was in her hands and both she and Jane were giving passably good imitations – modified by their respective personalities – of Milly’s awe-smitten admiration of the thing.

Staff was conscious of a sensation of fatigue. Bending over, he drew the bandbox to him and began to examine the wrappings and wads of tissue-paper which it still contained.

“It’s a perfect dear!” said Miss Landis in accents of the utmost sincerity.

“Indeed, mum,” chimed Jane, antiphonal.

“Whoever your anonymous friend may be, she has exquisite taste.”

“Indeed, mum,” chanted the chorus.

“May I try it on, Staff?”

“What?” said the young man absently, absorbed in his search. “Oh, yes; certainly. Help yourself.”

Alison moved across to the long mirror set in the door communicating with her bedroom. Here she paused, carefully adjusting the hat to her shapely head.

Staff sat back in his chair and looked his fill of admiration. The hat might have been designed expressly for no other purpose than to set off this woman’s imperious loveliness: such was the thought eloquent in his expression.

Satisfied with his dumb tribute, Alison lifted off the hat and deposited it upon a table.

“Find anything?” she asked lightly.

“Not a word,” said he – “not a sign of a clue.”

“What a disappointment!” she sighed. “I’m wild to know… Suppose,” said she, posing herself before him, – “suppose the owner never did turn up after all?”

“Hum,” said Staff, perturbed by such a prospect.

“What would you do with it?”

“Hum,” said he a second time, non-committal.

“You couldn’t wear it yourself; it’s hardly an ornament for a bachelor’s study. What would you do with it?”

“I think,” said Staff, “I hear my cue to say: I’d give it to the most beautiful woman alive, of course.”

“Thank you, dear,” returned Alison serenely. “Don’t forget.”