Winfield had
eloped with the young person engaged to look after her son. Mrs.
Porter's was one of those characters which monopolize any stage on
which they appear. Besides, Keggs disliked Mrs. Porter, and the
pleasure of the prospect of giving her a shock left no room for other
thoughts.
It was nearly seven o'clock when Mrs. Porter reached the house. She was
a little tired from the journey, but in high good humour. She had had a
thoroughly satisfactory interview with her publishers--satisfactory,
that is to say, to herself; the publishers had other views.
"Is Mrs. Winfield in?" she asked Keggs as he admitted her.
Ruth was always sympathetic about her guerrilla warfare with the
publishers. She looked forward to a cosy chat, in the course of which
she would trace, step by step, the progress of the late campaign which
had begun overnight and had culminated that morning in a sort of
Gettysburg, from which she had emerged with her arms full of captured
flags and all the other trophies of conquest.
"No, madam," said Keggs. "Mrs. Winfield has not yet returned."
Keggs was an artist in tragic narration. He did not give away his
climax; he led up to it by degrees as slow as his audience would
permit.
"Returned? I did not know she intended to go away. Her yacht party is
next week, I understand."
"Yes, madam.
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