Ruyler had always protested against the high-pitched din made by even six

American women when gathered together, and to the infernal racket at any

large entertainment; but to-night he sighed, forgetting his apprehensions

for the moment.

He had exquisite memories of these lovely grounds; he and Helene had

spent several days with Mrs. Thornton during their engagement, and she

had lent them the house for their honeymoon; he would have liked to

wander through the pleasant spaces with his wife to-night and make love

to her, instead of spying on her in the company of a detective.

For that, he was forced to conclude, was what he had been brought for.

Spaulding had mentioned her name casually, when telling him that he must

be on hand to nab the "party" who was at the bottom of the whole trouble;

but Spaulding hardly could have watched the person who was blackmailing

without including her in his surveillance. He wished now that he had left

that part of the mystery to take care of itself, trusting to his

mother-in-law's departure to relieve the situation. No doubt she would

have told him the truth herself rather than leave her daughter to the

mercy of the men who knew her secret.

But he was still far from suspecting the worst of the truth.

There were a number of men in fancy dominoes; he and Spaulding crossed

the lawn in front of the house unchallenged and, passing under the

frowning archway, entered the first of the courts.

The oblong sunken pool was banked with myrtle, and above, as well as in

the great inner court with the fountain, there were narrow arcaded

windows with fluttering silken curtains. Mrs. Thornton had too satiric a

sense of humor to have had the famous arabesques of the Alhambra

reproduced any more than the massive coats-of-arms above the arches, but

the walls were delicately colored, the delicate columns looked like old

ivory, and the greatest of the local architects had been entirely

successful in combining the massiveness of the warrior stronghold with

the airy lightness and spaciousness of the pleasure house.

The bedrooms, Ruyler told Spaulding, were all as modern as they were

luxurious, and the library, living-rooms, and dining-room, were in the

best American style. Fordy had rebelled at too much "Spanish atmosphere,"

his blood being straight Anglo-Saxon, and Mrs. Thornton always knew when

to yield. Nevertheless, Flora Thornton had built the proper setting for

her barbaric beauty, and, possibly, spirit.

People were sitting about the courts on piles of colored silken cushions,

those that had got themselves up in Eastern costumes having drifted

naturally to the suitable surroundings; for, after all, the Moors had

been Mohammedans.




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