LIV
THE little dinner was capital. In every small but considered detail it could not have been nicer. Elmer P., as the world looks for in one of his eminence, was growing to be a judge of food and wine. Also the shrewd dog knew how to choose his company. On his right sat Lady Violet, on his left was Mame. Over and beyond this pair of friends and boosters was vacancy, the limitless inane, at least so far as those three minds were concerned, although at other tables sat persons not without importance in their way.
In return for delicate food and dry champagne Elmer received high entertainment from the lively tongues of his charming guests. Both were observers of the human comedy, yet they observed it in the right way. There was nothing in their talk that was spiteful or backstairs, or beneath the dignity of human nature. Their aptness, wit, and general information, their opinions upon books, plays, music and the world at large gave the host a mental punch from thehors d’œuvresto the comice pear and thecrème de menthe, for which crude liqueur both ladies confessed a partiality.
Elmer had had his triumphs, in the last week or so particularly, but frankly he doubted whether he had ever enjoyed a meal like this. It was so gay. Andthere was the glamour of new experience. His life had suddenly been touched to newer and finer issues.
When the coffee appeared, at the end of the meal, Lady Violet drank hers quickly. Then quite unexpectedly she rose. She would have to fly. There was a musical party she had promised to attend. A stupid affair, but it was the call of duty.
Mame and Elmer were pressing in their entreaties for their amusing friend to remain, but she was not to be seduced from the true path. Besides, as she laughingly said, it was a perfect night of stars. And this being a sufficiently rare occurrence for London, she hoped that Elmer—if she might use his Christian name?—would walk with Mame through Trafalgar Square, along Pall Mall, up the Haymarket, across the Circus and down the full length of Piccadilly. She ventured to prescribe that route, because a little bird had whispered that if Elmer duly followed it he might look for a very pleasant surprise, for which Mame was alone responsible.
This was all so enigmatic that Elmer might have been tempted to disbelieve Lady Violet. But he knew she was no trifler. Emphatically she was one of the people who did not make promises unless they were able to deliver the goods.
“We’ll go along and try it, anyway,” conceded Elmer the polite. And being something of an altruist into the bargain: “But you’ll come with us, won’t you? We can’t loseyou!”
Lady Violet’s refusal was amusingly definite. Shewas late already; she must fly. Besides, there was an even more cogent reason. That, however, she was careful not to disclose to Elmer P. Dobree. As thathomme du mondemoved a bit ahead of her to the restaurant door to see her into her cloak and her taxi, she bent to Mame’s ear and whispered urgently, “My child, if you don’t put one over on him to-night I’ll never speak to you again.”