At Bertram's Hotel

11

Mrs. McCrae, Canon Pe

The canon was scheduled to return on the train arriving at six-thirty from London.

At seven o'clock he had not returned. No doubt the train was late. At seven-thirty he still had not returned. Mrs. McCrae gave a sigh of vexation. She suspected that this was going to be another of these things. Eight o'clock came and no canon. Mrs. McCrae gave a long, exasperated sigh. Soon, no doubt, she would get a telephone call, though it was quite within the bounds of possibility that there would not even be a telephone call. He might have written to her. No doubt he had written, but he had probably omitted to post the letter.

"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. McCrae.

At nine o'clock she made herself three pancakes with the pancake batter. The sole she put carefully away in the Frigidaire. "I wonder where the good man's got to now," she said to herself. She knew by experience that he might be anywhere. The odds were that he would discover his mistake in time to telegraph her or telephone her before she retired to bed. "I shall sit up until eleven o'clock but no longer," said Mrs. McCrae. Ten-thirty was her bedtime, an extension to eleven she considered her duty, but if at eleven there was nothing, no word from the canon, then Mrs. McCrae would duly lock up the house and betake herself to bed.

It ca

The morning of the day after, however, arrived without a word from him. For the first time Mrs. McCrae began to be uneasy. Between nine A.M. and one P.M. she eyed the telephone in a doubtful ma

Finally, when yet another day dawned without any news of him she decided to act. She knew where the canon was staying in London. Bertram's Hotel. A nice old-fashioned place. It might be as well, perhaps, if she rang up and made certain inquiries. They would probably know where the canon was. It was not an ordinary hotel. She would ask to be put through to Miss Gorringe. Miss Gorringe was always efficient and thoughtful. The canon might, of course, return by the twelve-thirty. If so he would be here any minute now.

But the minutes passed and there was no canon. Mrs. McCrae took a deep breath, nerved herself and asked for a call to London. She waited, biting her lips and holding the receiver clamped firmly to her ear.

"Bertram's Hotel, at your service," said the voice.

"I would like, if you please, to speak to Miss Gorringe," said Mrs. McCrae.

"Just a moment. What name shall I say?"

"It's Canon Pe

"Just a moment please."

Presently the calm and efficient voice of Miss Gorringe came through. "Miss Gorringe here. Did you say Canon Pe

"That's right. Mrs. McCrae."

"Oh yes. Of course. What can I do for you, Mrs. McCrae?"

"Is Canon Pe

"I'm glad you've rung up," said Miss Gomnge. "We have been rather worried as to what exactly to do."

"Do you mean something's happened to Canon Pe

"No, no, nothing of that kind. But we expected him back from Lucerne on Friday or Saturday."

"Eh-that'd be right."

"But he didn't arrive. Well, of course that wasn't really surprising. He had booked his room on- booked it, that is, until yesterday. He didn't come back yesterday or send any word and his things are still here. The major part of his baggage. We hadn't been quite sure what to do about it. Of course," Miss Gorringe went on hastily, "we know the canon is, well- somewhat forgetful sometimes."

"You may well say that!"

"It makes it a little difficult for us. We are so fully booked up. His room is actually booked for another guest." She added, "You have no idea where he is?"

With bitterness Mrs. McCrae said, "The man might be anywhere!" She pulled herself together. "Well, thank you, Miss Gorringe."

"Anything I can do-" Miss Gorringe suggested helpfully.

"I daresay I'll hear soon enough," said Mrs. McCrae. She thanked Miss Gorringe again and rang off.

She sat by the telephone, looking upset. She did not fear for the canon's personal safety. If he had had an accident, she would by now have been notified. She felt sure of that. On the whole the canon was not what one would call accident prone. He was what Mrs. McCrae called to herself "one of the scatty ones," and the scatty ones seemed always to be looked after by a special providence. While taking no care or thought, they could still survive even a Panda crossing. No, she did not visualize Canon Pe

Archdeacon Simmons was a complete contrast to her employer. He knew where he was going, and what he was doing, and was always cheerfully sure of knowing the right thing to be done and doing it. A confident cleric. Archdeacon Simmons, when he arrived, to be met by Mrs. McCrae's explanations, apologies and perturbation, was a tower of strength. He, too, was not alarmed.