Page 79 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“How queer a coincidence. I was there as well.”
“Huh, pity we didn’t run into each other.”
Madeline’s heart sank as she recalled her altercation with Oliver that had left them at such confused odds.
“At any rate,” said Peter, “there was a magnificent gentleman who performed the most amazing—well,miraclesI would have to call them. He had three brass cups, under one of which he placed a tiny ball. With mine own ears I heard the thing rattle beneath it as he moved it to and fro. He then lifted the other two to show that there was nothing beneath them. He made a curious pass over the lot, and lifted the cup. There was no ball beneath it.”
“You don’t say!” said Madeline.
“Vanished completely. I was positively stunned. But here’s the rub. He lifted the cup on the opposite side and there was the ball, intact, having travelled there unseen by human eyes!”
“I know the gentleman of whom you speak,” said Papa, brightening. “I saw him perform at Vauxhall myself. He poured an entire box of bran into a gentleman’s hat, reached in, and out came a live guinea pig.”
“I should have liked not to have missed him,” Madeline said with all the frustration associated with that evening.
“I do recommend,” said Lord Peter. “I wish I could remember his name.”
“Bartholomew Bosco,” said Papa. “He’s an Italian gentleman.”
“That’s the chap,” said Peter.
Madeline shook her head. “He sounds like a perfect genie.”
“He may very well be,” said Lord Peter. “Well, My Lord, I’m afraid I must take my leave. I wish you speedy recovery and great health.”
“Thank you, Lord Peter. You do this house honour by your visit.”
Lord Peter bowed and turned.
“I’ll show you out,” said Madeline, following quickly.
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They made their way through the drawing room towards the main doors of the house.
“Could we stop here for a moment?” said Lord Peter.
“What is it?”
“I’m glad you offered to show me out. It gives us a chance to talk. I have been thinking about some things a great deal. As a matter of fact, I’ve been able to think of nothing else.” He slapped his gloves into his palm and chuckled. “I’m a perfect lunatic it seems. I can’t even recover my command of the language sufficiently to communicate. May we sit?”
She sat down on one end of the settee and he opposite.
“My Lord,” she said, “is something troubling you?”
“In a way, yes. And in a way, no.”
“Well,” she said with a smile, “at least you’ve got that sorted out.”
“Lady Madeline, my father is very ill.”
She clutched at her heart. “No!”
“He has been for some time. Oh, he likes to pretend he isn’t, but he’s had a turn for the worse. The other night, he took ill during dinner. When he rose, he fell to the floor and was unable to move his left side. From what I hear, it sounds as if your father and mine must be sympathetic, for he had his attack the same night as my father took his fall.”
“Oh dear, My Lord, why did you not say anything before this?”
“My dear Madeline, it would not be proper for me to compound your father’s suffering by introducing the suffering of others into his mind. There is a time and a place for such matters. At any rate, I have you here.”
