LADY MOLLY OF SCOTLAND YARD
"Then go to bed now," she replied, with that strange transition of manner which to me was so attractive and to everyone else so unaccountable.
In spite of my protest, she refused to listen to any more talk or to answer any more questions, and, perforce, I had to go to my room. The next morning I saw her graceful figure, immaculately dressed in a perfect tailor-made gown, standing beside my bed at a very early hour.
"Why, what is the time?" I ejaculated, suddenly wide awake.
"Too early for you to get up," she replied quietly. "I am going to early Mass at the Roman Catholic convent close by."
"To Mass at the Roman Catholic convent?"
"Yes. Don't repeat all my words, Mary; it is silly, and wastes time. I have introduced myself in the neighbourhood as the American, Mrs. Silas A. Ogden, whose motor has broken down and is being repaired at Newcastle, while I, its owner, amuse myself by viewing the beauties of the neighbourhood. Being a Roman Catholic, I go to Mass first, and, having met Lady d'Alboukirk once in London, I go to pay her a respectful visit afterwards. When I come back we will have breakfast together. You might try in the meantime to scrape up an acquaintance with Miss Joan Duplessis, who is still staying here, and ask her to join us at breakfast."
She was gone before I could make another remark, and I could but obey her instantly to the letter.
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