Finding that neither Ruth nor Mrs.
Porter had returned, she went to the studio. Ringing the bell there and
getting no answer, she took in the movies once more.
Mamie was a philosopher.
The atmosphere of the great house was still untroubled on her second
visit. The care of the White Hope had always been left exclusively in
the hands of the women, and the rest of the household had not yet
detected his absence. It was not their business to watch his comings in
and his goings out. Besides, they had other things to occupy them.
The unique occasion of the double absence of Ruth and Mrs. Porter was
being celebrated by a sort of Saturnalia or slaves' holiday. It was
true that either or both might return at any moment, but there was a
disposition on the part of the domestic staff to take a chance on it.
Keggs, that sinful butler, had strolled round to an apparently
untenanted house on Forty-First Street, where those who knew their New
York could, by giving the signal, obtain admittance and the privilege
of losing their money at the pleasing game of roulette with a double
zero.
George, the footman, in company with Henriette, the lady's-maid, and
Rollins, the chauffeur, who had butted in absolutely uninvited to
George's acute disgust, were taking the air in the park. The rest of
the staff, with the exception of a house-maid, who had been bribed,
with two dollars and an old dress which had once been Ruth's and was
now the property of Henriette, to stand by the ship, were somewhere on
the island, amusing themselves in the way that seemed best to them.
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