Excusing himself to his friends, Parkson hurried out of the room. He had determined upon a course which would enable him to make her acquaintance. The single glance Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had rested upon him when entering the room gave him courage. At the door of No. 9, which was her sitting-room, he knocked quietly. A low voice bade him come in.
Then Parkson, embarrassed despite his boldness, stepped into the room.
"I beg your pardon for intruding upon you, but I think you dropped this cigarette-case in the dining-room."
Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him, then at the case, and came quickly to her feet.
"Oh, yes," she exclaimed. She accepted it from his fingers and smiled at him, looking steadily into his eyes. "I am so grateful to you," she said. "I cannot," she lied, "tell how I came to drop it!"
Parkson bowed, and was moving towards the door.
"You know, the servants," went on Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "are sometimes so dishonest in these hotels."
"Quite so," answered Parkson clumsily. Then he noticed that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had opened the cigarette-case and was holding it towards him. There were four buff-coloured cigarettes in its interior.
"Won't you give me the pleasure of accepting one of them? I am afraid it is the only reward you will permit me to offer you, Mr.----"
She paused, looking questioningly at him.
Mrs. Beecher Monmouth uttered a pleased exclamation; her face wreathed itself in smiles. For a devastated widow she looked at that moment particularly light-hearted.
"Oh, how very nice that is. Then you must know my cousin, Captain Cherriton?"
"Yes," said Parkson; "I've met him a number of times here." His tone conveyed to her swift intelligence the fact that Captain Cherriton was not high in his favour. She looked at him seriously.
"I am afraid he was not the best of company for you."
At that moment Cecily, who had been conveniently absent from the room, entered with coffee upon the tray.
"You will please bring another cup, Cecily. I am sure Captain Parkson----"
"Lieutenant Parkson," corrected the young man.
Five minutes later Lieutenant Parkson was comfortably seated in a chair on the opposite side of the hearth. He was consuming one of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's buff-coloured cigarettes, and was very much at home drinking some of Mrs. Beecher Monmouth's after-dinner coffee. After the first few minutes he gathered together his natural self-possession. He was generally at home where women were concerned, and he was intensely susceptible to feminine beauty. At that particular moment he was flattering himself that he was making a good impression upon this rich and beautiful young widow. It occurred to him that she was, in the circumstances, unduly cheerful, but he attributed this to his own good company. The fact that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had cunningly put him in this frame of mind was, of course, unknown to him. His own social position was quite a modest one, and this _tête-à-tête_ with a woman of Mrs. Monmouth's importance and aristocratic connections flattered his vanity.