She was as sure of meeting
him again as that she trod on air after she had ordered a new gown or
brought an inordinately becoming hat. She had forgotten Mortimer's
existence.
CHAPTER V
I
One day at the Hotel Crillon she thought she had found him.
She had passed the portals of that fortress with some delay, for the
American Commission protected itself as if it dwelt under the shadow of
imminent assassination and theft; whereas it was merely exclusive. The
sentries at the door demanded her permit, and passed her in with intense
suspicion to the inner guard. This was composed of three polite but very
young lieutenants in smart new uniforms with no blight of war on them, and
flagrantly of the American aristocracy.
With these she had less trouble, for they recognized her social status and
accepted her explanation that she had been invited for tea with one of the
ladies of the Commission. Nevertheless, they knew their duty and Alexina
was followed up to the door of her hostess' suite by another young guardian
who watched her entrance through the sacred door as carefully as if he
suspected her of carrying a bomb in her muff.
II
The party numbered about thirty, and Alexina, after chatting with the few
she knew, was standing apart by a small table drinking a cup of tea
with three lumps of sugar in it and consuming cakes like a greedy
boarding-school girl home for the holidays, when she caught sight of a
man in the British khaki, a major by his insignia, a tall man, thin and
straight, standing with his back to her at the opposite end of the room.
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