Will You Love Me in September

But we could not find Jeanne. She was not in the house; no one had seen her go out, yet everything she possessed had gone.

I had to dress. The party must go on however disturbed I was.

I put away the brocade dress. I did not want to look into that empty jewel case.

There must be some explanation about the disappearance of my jewels. There was one solution, but I refused to believe it, although the logical sequence was beginning to force itself into my mind.

I put on a gown of scarlet, rather flamboyant, but as Lance had assured me, in excellent taste ... a dress which required no embellishment.

I was desperately uneasy. I was worried. I was frantic. I was fond of Jeanne-more fond than I had realized. I would not believe what, on the face of it, was the only logical answer.

Aimee came in while I was dressing. She was quivering with excitement; her eyes looked luminous and unnaturally large. There was a high color in her cheeks.

"Where is Jeanne?" she asked. "I wanted to tell her ... Isn't she here?”

"I can't find her. I think she must have been called away.”

"Called away! Who would call her away, and would she go without telling you?”

"I can't understand it, Aimee. I am very worried.”

"Disappeared," murmured Aimee. "It can't be. She was comfortable here. Why should she go away?”

I shook my head, and a sharp look came into Aimee's eyes. "Is ... is anything missing?” she asked.

I was silent. I did not want to tell her about the jewelry. I should have to do so in time ... but not yet. I kept telling myself that Jeanne would be back. There must be a simple explanation of her disappearance.

"Because if there is ..." went on Aimee.

"What are you talking about?”

"It's obvious, isn't it? She was always talking about a flower shop in Paris. That was her great aim in life.”

"You can't think that Jeanne ... Oh, it's quite impossible. She has been with me so long. She looked after me in Paris ...”

"She always longed to be back there. That I know. That flower shop in Paris was what she dreamed of. One of her own. It's what she always wanted.”

"As if she would go without telling me! I don't believe she would ever have gone.

She was so happy to have her home with us.”

"She was by no means sentimental. Hard as nails, I'd say. That's how they are brought up in the streets of Paris.”

"She was not hard. She was so good to me when I needed help.”

Aimee nodded. "Well, who knows? Perhaps she'll come back. Has she taken some of her clothes with her?"

“All," I said. "Oh, dear. Then it really seems ...”

Lance came in while we were talking.

"What's happened?" he asked. "Everyone seems to be whispering together.”

I said, "Jeanne has disappeared.”

"Disappeared? How? When?”

"That's what I'd like to know. She's gone-that's all.”

"Jeanne! I can't believe it.”

I nodded. "It seems to be true.”

"I really think we ought to see if anything is missing," said Aimee.

"I don't believe Jeanne would ever take anything that did not belong to her," I began.

"You wouldn't believe she'd go off without saying a word," retorted Aimee. "I think you ought to look round and see what valuables are missing. Jewels, most likely, as they would be easy to carry.”

I felt myself trembling as Aimee went to my jewel case on the dressing table and opened it. She looked at me with wide-open eyes. "Did you have anything in it? It's empty now.”

I said reluctantly, "I think my emeralds were in it ... and the bezoar ring.”

"No!" She almost let the case fall from her hands as she stared from me to Lance.

"You've put them somewhere else ..." she said breathless- ly.

I shook my head.

"Oh, yes, you must have," cried Lance. "They're somewhere in this room." He refused to accept the implication, as I did. He was silent for a few seconds, then he burst out, "Gad, you don't think that she ...”

"It appears so," said Aimee. "She seems to have walked out with your emeralds, Clarissa.

Who would have believed it, and yet she was always saying they'd buy a flower shop in the heart of Paris.”

"That's absurd," I said emphatically. "It really is quite ridiculous.”

"I expect they'll turn up," said Lance. "All of them ... Jeanne and the jewels.”

"They won't," contradicted Aimee firmly. "I know her type. She's typical of the back streets of Paris. Hard as nails and sharp as broken glass. That's what they are ... looking for chances and never missing them when they come. It would not surprise me if she were already on the boat crossing to France. She'll get her ambition... .”

I shook my head miserably and Lance came to me and put an arm about me.

Nothing was done about Jeanne that night. I would not allow anyone to say that she had run away; I believed she would come back and there was some explanation.

The party went on; the gambling took place. I was too upset to do anything but retire to my room.