The Intrusions of Peggy. Hope Anthony

in a genial way.

      At eleven o'clock Beaufort Chance arrived at Trix Trevalla's and sent up his name. Mrs. Trevalla sent down to say that she would he glad to see him at lunch. He returned word that his business was important, and would not bear delay. In ten minutes he found himself in her presence. She wore a loose morning-gown, her hair was carefully dressed, she looked very pretty; there was an air of excitement about her; fear and triumph seemed to struggle for ascendancy in her manner. She laid a letter down on the table by her as he entered. While they talked she kept putting her hand on it and withdrawing it again, pulling the letter towards her and pushing it away, fingering it continually, while she kept a watchful eye on her companion.

      'What's the hurry about?' she asked, with a languor that was not very plausible. 'Dramoffskys?'

      'Dramoffskys are all right,' said he deliberately, as he sat down opposite her. 'But I want a talk with you, Trix.'

      'Did we settle that you were to call me Trix?'

      'I think of you as that.'

      'Well, but that's much less compromising – and just as complimentary.'

      'Business! business!' he smiled, giving her appearance an approving glance. 'Fricker and I have been having a talk. We're not satisfied with you, partner.' He had for the time conquered his agitation, and was able to take a tone which he hoped would persuade her, without any need of threats or of disagreeable hints.

      'Am I not most amiable to Mr. Fricker, and Mrs., and Miss?' Trix's face had clouded at the first mention of Fricker.

      'You women are generally hopeless in business, but I expected better things from you. Now let's come to the point. What have you done for the Frickers?'

      Reluctantly brought to the point, Trix recounted with all possible amplitude what she considered she had done. Her hand was often on the letter as she spoke. At the end, with a quick glance at Beaufort, she said: —

      'And really that's all I can do. They're too impossible, you know.'

      He rose and stood on the hearthrug.

      'That's all you can do?' he asked in a level smooth voice.

      'Yes. Oh, a few more big squashes, perhaps. But it's nonsense talking of the Glentorlys or of any of Mrs. Bonfill's really nice evenings.'

      'It's not nonsense. You could do it if you liked. You know Mrs. Bonfill, anyhow, would do it to please you; and I believe the Glentorlys would too.'

      'Well, then, I don't like,' said Trix Trevalla.

      He frowned heavily and seemed as if he were going to break out violently. But he waited a moment, and then spoke calmly again. The truth is that Fricker's interests were nothing to him. They might go, provided he could show that he had done his best for them; but doing his best must not involve sacrificing his own chances.

      'So much for Fricker! I must say you've a cool way with you, Trix.'

      'The way you speak annoys me very much sometimes,' remarked Trix reflectively.

      'Why do you suppose he interested himself in your affairs?'

      'I've done what I could.' Her lips shut obstinately. 'If I try to do more I sha'n't help the Frickers and I shall hurt myself.'

      'That's candid, at all events.' He smiled a moment. 'Don't be in a hurry to say it to Fricker, though.'

      'It'll be best to let the truth dawn on him gradually,' smiled Trix. 'Is that all you wanted to say? Because I'm not dressed, and I promised to be at the Glentorlys' at half-past twelve.'

      'No, it's not all I've got to say.'

      'Oh, well, be quick then.'

      Her indifference was overdone, and Beaufort saw it. A suspicion came into his mind. 'So much for Fricker!' he had said. Did she dare to think of meting out the same cavalier treatment to him?

      'I wish you'd attend to me and let that letter alone,' he said in a sudden spasm of irritation.

      'As soon as you begin, I'll attend,' retorted Trix; 'but you're not saying anything. You're only saying you're going to say something.' Her manner was annoying; perhaps she would have welcomed the diversion of a little quarrel.

      But Beaufort was not to be turned aside; he was bent on business. Fricker, it seemed, was disposed of. He remained. But before he could formulate a beginning to this subject, Trix broke in: —

      'I want to get out of these speculations as soon as I can,' she said. 'I don't mind about not making any more money as long as I don't lose any. I'm tired of – of the suspense, and – and so on. And, oh, I won't have anything more to do with the Frickers!'

      He looked at her in quick distrust.

      'Your views have undergone a considerable change,' he remarked. 'You don't want to speculate? You don't mind about not making any more money?'

      Trix looked down and would not meet his eyes.

      'Going to live on what you've got?' he asked mockingly. 'Or is it a case of cutting down expenses and retiring to the country?'

      'I don't want to discuss my affairs. I've told you what I wish.'

      He took a turn across the room and came back. His voice was still calm, but the effort was obvious.