Tuesday Night at Chimneys
Lord Caterham, Virginia and Bundle were sitting in the library after dinner. It was Tuesday evening. Some thirty hours had elapsed since Anthony’s rather dramatic departure.
For at least the seventh time Bundle repeated Anthony’s parting words, as spoken at Hyde Park Corner.
“I’ll find my own way back,” repeated Virginia thoughtfully. “That doesn’t look as though he expected to be away as long as this. And he’s left all his things here.”
“He didn’t tell you where he was going?”
“No,” said Virginia, looking straight in front of her. “He told me nothing.”
After this, there was a silence for a minute or two. Lord Caterham was the first to break it.
“On the whole,” he said, “keeping an hotel has some advantages over keeping a country house.”
“Meaning—?”
“That little notice they always hang up in your room. Visitors intending departure must give notice before twelve o’clock.”
Virginia smiled.
“I dare say,” he continued, “that I am old-fashioned and unreasonable. It’s the fashion, I know, to pop in and out of a house. Same idea as an