Part 31

"I intend to use the name Mary Stevens in my work," she interrupted.

"But there mustn't be any concealment, any mystery to excite curiosity and scandal--"

This time the interruption was her expression. He turned to see what had startled her, and saw in the doorway of the drawing-room the grotesquely neat and stylish figure of the little general. Before either could speak he said:

"How d'you do, Mr. Baird? You'll pardon me if I ask you to leave me alone with my WIFE."

Stanley met the situation with perfect coolness. "How are you, General?" said he. "Certainly, I was just going." He extended his hand to Mildred, said in a correct tone of conventional friendliness, "Then you'll let me know when you're settled?" He bowed, moved toward the door, shook hands with the general, and passed out, giving from start to finish a model example of a man of the world extricating himself from an impossible situation and leaving it the better for his having been entangled. To a man of Siddall's incessant and clumsy self-consciousness such unaffected ease could not but be proof positive of Mildred's innocence--unless he had overheard. And his first words convinced her that he had not. Said he:

"So you sent for your old admirer?"

"I ran across him accidentally," replied Mildred.

"I know," said the little general. "My men picked you up at the pier and haven't lost sight of you since. It's fortunate that I've kept myself informed, or I might have misunderstood that chap's being here." A queer, cloudy look came into his eyes. "I must give him a warning for safety's sake." He waved his hand in dismissal of such an unimportant trifle as the accidental Baird. He went on, his wicked eyes bent coldly and dully upon her: "Do you know what kind of a house this is?"

"Stanley Baird urged me to leave," replied she. "But I shall stay until I find a better--and that's not easy."

"Yes, my men have reported to me on the difficulties you've had. It was certainly fortunate for you that I had them look after you. Otherwise I'd never have understood your landing in this sort of a house. You are ready to come with me?"

"Your secretary explained that if I left the hotel it was the end."

"He told you that by my orders."

"So he explained," said Mildred. She seated herself, overcome by a sudden lassitude that was accompanied not by fear, but by indifference. "Won't you sit down? I am willing to hear what you have to say."

The little general, about to sit, was so astonished that he straightened and stiffened himself. "In consenting to overlook your conduct and take you back I have gone farther than I ever intended. I have taken into consideration your youth and inexperience."

"But I am not going back," said Mildred.

The little general slowly seated himself. "You have less than two hundred and fifty dollars left," said he.

"Really? Your spies know better than I."

"I have seen Presbury. He assures me that in no circumstances will he and your mother take you back."

"They will not have the chance to refuse," said Mildred.

"As for your brother--"

"I have no brother," said she coldly.

"Then you are coming back with me."

"No," said Mildred. "I should"--she cast about for an impressive alternative--"I should stay on here, rather."

The little general--his neat varnished leather and be-spatted shoes just touched the floor--examined his highly polished top-hat at several angles. Finally he said: "You need not fear that your misconduct will be remembered against you. I shall treat you in every way as my wife. I shall assume that your--your flight was an impulse that you regret."

"I shan't go back," said Mildred. "Nothing you could offer would change me."

"I cannot make any immediate concession on the--the matter that caused you to go," pursued he, as if she had not spoken, "but if I see that you have reliability and good sense, I'll agree to give you an allowance later."

Mildred eyed him curiously. "Why are you making these offers, these concessions?" she said. "You think everyone in the world is a fool except yourself. You're greatly deceived. I know that you don't mean what you've been saying. I know that if you got me in your power again, you would do something frightful. I've seen through that mask you wear. I know the kind of man you are."

"If you know that," said the general in his even slow way, monotonous, almost lifeless, "you know you'd better come with me than stand out against me."