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Prince or Chauffeur? A Story of Newport

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<h3> CHAPTER XXVI </h3> <h3> CONCLUSION </h3> In the library of The Crags, the light of dawn stole in through the windows and turned the brilliant light of the lamps into a pale glow. The odor of stale flowers was all about. Mrs. Wellington, with a headache, stood in the doorway. Her husband sat in an armchair with legs outstretched, smoking about his fortieth cigar. Sara Van Valkenberg stood in the middle of the floor. She had been speaking at great length and with many gestures and not once had she been interrupted. When at last she concluded, there was a long silence. "Well, Belle?" said Ronald Wellington at last, turning his head toward his wife. "Oh, I am not surprised," said Mrs. Wellington grimly. "I always suspected Koltsoff of some deviltry. I hoped only that it would remain beneath the surface until after the ball. It did. I have not the slightest complaint." "So; he used this house as a rendezvous for spies!" Mr. Wellington bit at his cigar savagely. "Where is he now?" "He motored to town an hour or two ago," replied Sara. "His secretary told Miss Hatch that they had booked for the Metric to-morrow." Mr. Wellington could not repress a smile. "Well," he said, "and where is this Armitage fellow now? Where is Anne?" Sara laughed. "When I last saw her she was searching for Lieutenant Armitage." "H'mm." Mr. Wellington looked at his wife gravely. "What is it now, Belle? Have they eloped, or what?" "I am sure I haven't the slightest idea," replied that lady yawning. "Not interested, eh?" There was sort of a chirrup in the man's voice. "Not the slightest," was the reply with rising emphasis. "Anne might as well marry—or elope with—Lieutenant Armitage as some one equally or more objectionable to me." "Oh, Mrs. Wellington!" cried Sara. "Jack Armitage is eminently eligible, really. As I told you, I know all about him." As Mrs. Wellington smiled her wintry smile and was about to reply, there was a flash of white in the doorway. An instant later Anne had darted into the room and launched herself into her father's lap. "Father!" Ronald Wellington studied his daughter's flushed face for a moment, the sparkling eyes, the parted lips, the disarranged hair, the wet, bedraggled gown, and the bruised forehead. "Where is he? Did you find him?" he asked. "You look as though you had conducted a strenuous search, Anne." With a laugh, Anne, radiant as a spirit, ran out into the hall and when she returned she had Jack by the hand. "Father, mother, here is Jack Armitage—Lieutenant Armitage of—of our Navy." Mr. Wellington slowly arose. "Say, Armitage," he said, "I know your father. He has been a mighty capable enemy of mine, or, rather, to my interests. What have you to say to that?" Jack met his eyes with a brave smile. "I 'm sorry to hear that, sir. But he won't be any longer. I 'll fix that." "Of course we will," cried Anne. "Oh!" And then Mr. Wellington's hearty laugh shook the room. "Mother!" Anne turned to Mrs. Wellington. "Aren't you going to laugh, too?" Something like a look of tenderness crossed the mother's face. "I am sorry, Anne, not now." She turned to leave the room. "But I am not going to cry—be assured." Several hours later Jack caught Sara alone. "Sara," he said sternly, "what did you tell Anne about my being here?" Sara smiled enigmatically. "Really, Jack, I 've forgotten. Something to the effect that you could have sent Government detectives, had you not wanted to come here yourself." Jack thought a moment. "By George!" he said, "you were not far wrong!" "Wrong!" exclaimed Sara ingenuously. Jack stepped toward her and as he did so Anne entered the room. "Come right in, Anne," cried Armitage, "I was just going to kiss Sara Van Valkenberg." "Well," smiled Anne, "you may—just once." THE END <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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