"Bradford slipped up," cried Steele in hearty appreciation of the look he surprised just then in Bradford's eyes. "He simply guessed and guessed wrong."
Miss Corliss turned in her chair, her eyes upon Bradford. The major domo's face went a painful scarlet. For once in his life his two hands met in front of him, clasped and lifted in an attitude of prayer.
For the second time in so few moments the girl rose to her feet.
"You have done a very ungentlemanly thing …"
"Betrayed your trust, eh? Played spy and sailed under false colours?" laughed Steele. "Come now, Beatrice Corliss, be a good sport. I have only had my little joke and no harm done."
"Bradford," said Beatrice Corliss with crisp distinctness, "you may serve the remainder of my lunch in the breakfast room. And," the words reminding Steele of little separate bits of tinkling ice, "you may report to me in my office at one o'clock."
Her head lifted very high, with no further glance toward the table from which she turned, she left the room.
"Such a little Queen!" observed Steele dramatically.
Beatrice Corliss' cheeks as she went through the door which Bradford flung open for her were as red as Bradford's own.
