The lobby of the Hotel Cosmopolis is the exact centre of New York, the spot where at certain hours one is sure of meeting everybody one knows. The first person that Nelly and Freddie saw, as they passed through the swing doors, was Jill. She was seated on the chair by the big pillar in the middle of the hall.
"What ho!" said Freddie. "Waiting for someone?"
"Hullo, Freddie. Yes, I'm waiting for Wally Mason. I got a note from him this morning, asking me to meet him here. I'm a little early. I haven't congratulated you yet. You're wonderful!"
"Thanks, old girl. Our young hero is making pretty hefty strides in his chosen profesh, what? Mr. Rooke, who appears quite simple and unspoiled by success, replied to our representative's enquiry as to his future plans, that he proposed to stagger into the grill-room and imbibe about eighteen dollars' worth of lunch. Yes, it is a bit of all right, taking it by and large, isn't it? I mean to say, the salary, the jolly old salary, you know ... quite a help when a fellow's lost all his money!"
Jill was surprised to observe that the Last of the Rookes was contorting his face in an unsightly manner that seemed to be an attempt at a wink, pregnant with hidden meaning. She took her cue dutifully, though without understanding.
"Oh, yes," she replied.
Freddie seemed grateful. With a cordial "Cheerio!" he led Nelly off to the grill-room.
"I didn't know Jill knew Mr. Mason," said Nelly, as they sat down at their table.
"No?" said Freddie absently, running an experienced eye over the bill of fare. He gave an elaborate order. "What was that? Oh, absolutely! Jill and I and Wally were children together."
"How funny you should all be together again like this."
"Yes. Oh, good Lord!"
"What's the matter?"
"It's nothing. I meant to send a cable to a pal of mine in England, I'll send it after lunch."
Freddie took out his handkerchief, and tied a knot in it. He was slightly ashamed of the necessity of taking such a precaution, but it was better to be on the safe side. His interview with Jill at the theatre had left him with the conviction that there was only one thing for him to do, and that was to cable poor old Derek to forget impending elections and all the rest of it and pop over to America at once. He knew that he would never have the courage to re-open the matter with Jill himself. As an ambassador he was a spent force. If Jill was to be wooed from her mood of intractibility, Derek was the only man to do it. Freddie was convinced that, seeing him in person, she would melt and fall into his arms. Too dashed absurd, Freddie felt, two loving hearts being separated like this and all that sort of thing. He replaced his handkerchief in his pocket, relieved, and concentrated himself on the entertainment of Nelly. A simple task for the longer he was with this girl, the easier did it seem, to talk to her.
Jill, left alone in the lobby, was finding the moments pass quite pleasantly. She liked watching the people as they came in. One or two of the girls of the company fluttered in like birds, were swooped upon by their cavaliers, and fluttered off to the grill-room. The red-headed Babe passed her with a genial nod, and, shortly after, Lois Denham, the willowy recipient of sunbursts from her friend Izzy of the hat-checks, came by in company with a sallow, hawk-faced young man with a furtive eye, whom Jill took--correctly--to be Izzy himself. Lois was looking pale and proud, and, from the few words which came to Jill's ears as they neared her, seemed to be annoyed at having been kept waiting.
It was immediately after this that the swing-doors revolved rather more violently than usual, and Mr. Goble burst into view.
There was a cloud upon Mr. Goble's brow, seeming to indicate that his grievance against life had not yet been satisfactorily adjusted; but it passed as he saw Jill, and he came up to her with what he would probably have claimed to be an ingratiating smile.
"Hullo!" said Mr. Goble. "All alone?"
Jill was about to say that the condition was merely temporary when the manager went on.
"Come and have a bit of lunch."
"Thank you very much," said Jill, with the politeness of dislike, "but I'm waiting for someone."
"Chuck him!" advised Mr. Goble cordially.
"No, thanks, I couldn't, really."
The cloud began to descend again upon Mr. Goble's brow. He was accustomed to having these invitations of his treated as royal commands.
"Come along!"
"I'm afraid it's impossible."
Mr. Goble subjected her to a prolonged stare, seemed about to speak, changed his mind, and swung off moodily in the direction of the grill-room. He was not used to this sort of treatment.
He had hardly gone, when Wally appeared.
"What was he saying to you?" demanded Wally abruptly, without preliminary greeting.
"He was asking me to lunch."
Wally was silent for a moment. His good-natured face wore an unwonted scowl.
"He went in there, of course?" he said, pointing to the grill-room.
"Yes."
"Then let's go into the other room," said Wally. He regained his good humour. "It was awfully good of you to come. I didn't know whether you would be able to."
"It was very nice of you to invite me."
Wally grinned.
"How perfect our manners are! It's a treat to listen! How did you know that that was the one hat in New York I wanted you to wear?"
"Oh, these things get about. Do you like it?"
"It's wonderful. Let's take this table, shall we?"
