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diff --git a/1671-h/1671-h.htm b/1671-h/1671-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..215dd9e --- /dev/null +++ b/1671-h/1671-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8097 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + When a Man Marries, by Mary Roberts Rinehart + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of When a Man Marries, by Mary Roberts Rinehart + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: When a Man Marries + +Author: Mary Roberts Rinehart + +Release Date: November 23, 2008 [EBook #1671] +Last Updated: October 11, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN A MAN MARRIES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + WHEN A MAN MARRIES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Mary Roberts Rinehart + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> Chapter I. </a> AT LEAST I + MEANT WELL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> Chapter II. </a> THE + WAY IT BEGAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> Chapter III. </a> I + MIGHT HAVE KNOWN IT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> Chapter IV. </a> THE + DOOR WAS CLOSED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> Chapter V. </a> FROM + THE TREE OF LOVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> Chapter VI. </a> A + MIGHTY POOR JOKE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> Chapter VII. </a> WE + MAKE AN OMELET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> Chapter VIII. </a> CORRESPONDENTS’ + DEPARTMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> Chapter IX. </a> FLANNIGAN’S + FIND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> Chapter X. </a> ON + THE STAIRS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> Chapter XI. </a> I + MAKE A DISCOVERY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> Chapter XII. </a> THE + ROOF GARDEN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> Chapter XIII. </a> HE + DOES NOT DENY IT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> Chapter XIV. </a> ALMOST, + BUT NOT QUITE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> Chapter XV. </a> SUSPICION + AND DISCORD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> Chapter XVI. </a> I + FACE FLANNIGAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> Chapter XVII. </a> A + CLASH AND A KISS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> Chapter XVIII. </a> IT’S + ALL MY FAULT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> Chapter XIX. </a> THE + HARBISON MAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> Chapter XX. </a> BREAKING + OUT IN A NEW PLACE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> Chapter XXI. </a> A + BAR OF SOAP <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> Chapter XXII. </a> IT + WAS DELIRIUM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> Chapter XXIII. </a> COMING + <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Needles and pins + Needles and pins, + When a man marries + His trouble begins. + </pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Chapter I. AT LEAST I MEANT WELL + </h2> + <p> + When the dreadful thing occurred that night, every one turned on me. The + injustice of it hurt me most. They said I got up the dinner, that I asked + them to give up other engagements and come, that I promised all kinds of + jollification, if they would come; and then when they did come and got in + the papers and every one—but ourselves—laughed himself black + in the face, they turned on ME! I, who suffered ten times to their one! I + shall never forget what Dallas Brown said to me, standing with a coal + shovel in one hand and a—well, perhaps it would be better to tell it + all in the order it happened. + </p> + <p> + It began with Jimmy Wilson and a conspiracy, was helped on by a + foot-square piece of yellow paper and a Japanese butler, and it enmeshed + and mixed up generally ten respectable members of society and a policeman. + Incidentally, it involved a pearl collar and a box of soap, which sounds + incongruous, doesn’t it? + </p> + <p> + It is a great misfortune to be stout, especially for a man. Jim was rotund + and looked shorter than he really was, and as all the lines of his face, + or what should have been lines, were really dimples, his face was about as + flexible and full of expression as a pillow in a tight cover. The angrier + he got the funnier he looked, and when he was raging, and his neck swelled + up over his collar and got red, he was entrancing. And everybody liked + him, and borrowed money from him, and laughed at his pictures (he has one + in the Hargrave gallery in London now, so people buy them instead), and + smoked his cigarettes, and tried to steal his Jap. The whole story hinges + on the Jap. + </p> + <p> + The trouble was, I think, that no one took Jim seriously. His ambition in + life was to be taken seriously, but people steadily refused to. His art + was a huge joke—except to himself. If he asked people to dinner, + every one expected a frolic. When he married Bella Knowles, people + chuckled at the wedding, and considered it the wildest prank of Jimmy’s + career, although Jim himself seemed to take it awfully hard. + </p> + <p> + We had all known them both for years. I went to Farmington with Bella, and + Anne Brown was her matron of honor when she married Jim. My first winter + out, Jimmy had paid me a lot of attention. He painted my portrait in oils + and had a studio tea to exhibit it. It was a very nice picture, but it did + not look like me, so I stayed away from the exhibition. Jim asked me to. + He said he was not a photographer, and that anyhow the rest of my features + called for the nose he had given me, and that all the Greuze women have + long necks. I have not. + </p> + <p> + After I had refused Jim twice he met Bella at a camp in the Adirondacks + and when he came back he came at once to see me. He seemed to think I + would be sorry to lose him, and he blundered over the telling for twenty + minutes. Of course, no woman likes to lose a lover, no matter what she may + say about it, but Jim had been getting on my nerves for some time, and I + was much calmer than he expected me to be. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean,” I said finally in desperation, “that you and Bella are—are + in love, why don’t you say so, Jim? I think you will find that I stand it + wonderfully.” + </p> + <p> + He brightened perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know how you would take it, Kit,” he said, “and I hope we will + always be bully friends. You are absolutely sure you don’t care a whoop + for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely,” I replied, and we shook hands on it. Then he began about + Bella; it was very tiresome. + </p> + <p> + Bella is a nice girl, but I had roomed with her at school, and I was under + no illusions. When Jim raved about Bella and her banjo, and Bella and her + guitar, I had painful moments when I recalled Bella, learning her two + songs on each instrument, and the old English ballad she had learned to + play on the harp. When he said she was too good for him, I never batted an + eye. And I shook hands solemnly across the tea-table again, and wished him + happiness—which was sincere enough, but hopeless—and said we + had only been playing a game, but that it was time to stop playing. Jim + kissed my hand, and it was really very touching. + </p> + <p> + We had been the best of friends ever since. Two days before the wedding he + came around from his tailor’s, and we burned all his letters to me. He + would read one and say: “Here’s a crackerjack, Kit,” and pass it to me. + And after I had read it we would lay it on the firelog, and Jim would say, + “I am not worthy of her, Kit. I wonder if I can make her happy?” Or—“Did + you know that the Duke of Belford proposed to her in London last winter?” + </p> + <p> + Of course, one has to take the woman’s word about a thing like that, but + the Duke of Belford had been mad about Maude Richard all that winter. + </p> + <p> + You can see that the burning of the letters, which was meant to be + reminiscently sentimental, a sort of how-silly-we-were-but-it-is + all-over-now occasion, became actually a two hours’ eulogy of Bella. And + just when I was bored to death, the Mercer girls dropped in and heard Jim + begin to read one commencing “dearest Kit.” And the next day after the + rehearsal dinner, they told Bella! + </p> + <p> + There was very nearly no wedding at all. Bella came to see me in a frenzy + the next morning and threw Jim and his two-hundred odd pounds in my face, + and although I explained it all over and over, she never quite forgave me. + That was what made it so hard later—the situation would have been + bad enough without that complication. + </p> + <p> + They went abroad on their wedding journey, and stayed several months. And + when Jim came back he was fatter than ever. Everybody noticed it. Bella + had a gymnasium fitted up in a corner of the studio, but he would not use + it. He smoked a pipe and painted all day, and drank beer and WOULD eat + starches or whatever it is that is fattening. But he adored Bella, and he + was madly jealous of her. At dinners he used to glare at the man who took + her in, although it did not make him thin. Bella was flirting, too, and by + the time they had been married a year, people hitched their chairs + together and dropped their voices when they were mentioned. + </p> + <p> + Well, on the anniversary of the day Bella left him—oh yes, she left + him finally. She was intense enough about some things, and she said it got + on her nerves to have everybody chuckle when they asked for her husband. + They would say, “Hello, Bella! How’s Bubbles? Still banting?” And Bella + would try to laugh and say, “He swears his tailor says his waist is + smaller, but if it is he must be growing hollow in the back.” + </p> + <p> + But she got tired of it at last. Well, on the second anniversary of + Bella’s departure, Jimmy was feeling pretty glum, and as I say, I am very + fond of Jim. The divorce had just gone through and Bella had taken her + maiden name again and had had an operation for appendicitis. We heard + afterward that they didn’t find an appendix, and that the one they showed + her in a glass jar WAS NOT HERS! But if Bella ever suspected, she didn’t + say. Whether the appendix was anonymous or not, she got box after box of + flowers that were, and of course every one knew that it was Jim who sent + them. + </p> + <p> + To go back to the anniversary, I went to Rothberg’s to see the collection + of antique furniture—mother was looking for a sideboard for father’s + birthday in March—and I met Jimmy there, boring into a worm-hole in + a seventeenth-century bedpost with the end of a match, and looking his + nearest to sad. When he saw me he came over. + </p> + <p> + “I’m blue today, Kit,” he said, after we had shaken hands. “Come and help + me dig bait, and then let’s go fishing. If there’s a worm in every hole in + that bedpost, we could go into the fish business. It’s a good business.” + </p> + <p> + “Better than painting?” I asked. But he ignored my gibe and swelled up + alarmingly in order to sigh. + </p> + <p> + “This is the worst day of the year for me,” he affirmed, staring straight + ahead, “and the longest. Look at that crazy clock over there. If you want + to see your life passing away, if you want to see the steps by which you + are marching to eternity, watch that clock marking the time. Look at that + infernal hand staying quiet for sixty seconds and then jumping forward to + catch up with the procession. Ugh!” + </p> + <p> + “See here, Jim,” I said, leaning forward, “you’re not well. You can’t go + through the rest of the day like this. I know what you’ll do; you’ll go + home to play Grieg on the pianola, and you won’t eat any dinner.” He + looked guilty. + </p> + <p> + “Not Grieg,” he protested feebly. “Beethoven.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not going to do either,” I said with firmness. “You are going + right home to unpack those new draperies that Harry Bayles sent you from + Shanghai, and you are going to order dinner for eight—that will be + two tables of bridge. And you are not going to touch the pianola.” + </p> + <p> + He did not seem enthusiastic, but he rose and picked up his hat, and stood + looking down at me where I sat on an old horse-hair covered sofa. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to thunder I had married you!” he said savagely. “You’re the + finest girl I know, Kit, WITHOUT EXCEPTION, and you are going to throw + yourself away on Jack Manning, or Max, or some other—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the sort,” I said coldly, “and the fact that you didn’t marry + me does not give you the privilege of abusing my friends. Anyhow, I don’t + like you when you speak like that.” + </p> + <p> + Jim took me to the door and stopped there to sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t been well,” he said heavily. “Don’t eat, don’t sleep. Wouldn’t + you think I’d lose flesh? Kit”—he lowered his voice solemnly—“I + have gained two pounds!” + </p> + <p> + I said he didn’t look it, which appeared to comfort him somewhat, and, + because we were old friends, I asked him where Bella was. He said he + thought she was in Europe, and that he had heard she was going to marry + Reggie Wolfe. Then he signed again, muttered something about ordering the + funeral baked meats to be prepared and left me. + </p> + <p> + That was my entire share in the affair. I was the victim, both of + circumstances and of their plot, which was mad on the face of it. + </p> + <p> + During the entire time they never once let me forget that I got up the + dinner, that I telephoned around for them. They asked me why I couldn’t + cook—when not one of them knew one side of a range from the other. + And for Anne Brown to talk the way she did—saying I had always been + crazy about Jim, and that she believed I had known all along that his aunt + was coming—for Anne to talk like that was sheer idiocy. Yes, there + was an aunt. The Japanese butler started the trouble, and Aunt Selina + carried it along. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter II. THE WAY IT BEGAN + </h2> + <p> + It makes me angry every time I think how I tried to make that dinner a + success. I canceled a theater engagement, and I took the Mercer girls in + the electric brougham father had given me for Christmas. Their chauffeur + had been gone for hours with their machine, and they had telephoned all + the police stations without success. They were afraid that there had been + an awful smash; they could easily have replaced Bartlett, as Lollie said, + but it takes so long to get new parts for those foreign cars. + </p> + <p> + Jim had a house well up-town, and it stood just enough apart from the + other houses to be entirely maddening later. It was a three-story affair, + with a basement kitchen and servants’ dining room. Then, of course, there + were cellars, as we found out afterward. On the first floor there was a + large square hall, a formal reception room, behind it a big living room + that was also a library, then a den, and back of all a Georgian dining + room, with windows high above the ground. On the top floor Jim had a + studio, like every other one I ever saw—perhaps a little mussier. + Jim was really a grind at his painting, and there were cigarette ashes and + palette knives and buffalo rugs and shields everywhere. It is strange, but + when I think of that terrible house, I always see the halls, enormous, + covered with heavy rugs, and stairs that would have taken six housemaids + to keep in proper condition. I dream about those stairs, stretching above + me in a Jacob’s ladder of shining wood and Persian carpets, going up, up, + clear to the roof. + </p> + <p> + The Dallas Browns walked; they lived in the next block. And they brought + with them a man named Harbison, that no one knew. Anne said he would be + great sport, because he was terribly serious, and had the most exaggerated + ideas of society, and loathed extravagance, and built bridges or + something. She had put away her cigarettes since he had been with them—he + and Dallas had been college friends—and the only chance she had to + smoke was when she was getting her hair done. And she had singed off quite + a lot—a burnt offering, she called it. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said over the telephone, when I invited her, “I want you to + know him. He’ll be crazy about you. That type of man, big and deadly + earnest, always falls in love with your type of girl, the appealing sort, + you know. And he has been too busy, up to now, to know what love is. But + mind, don’t hurt him; he’s a dear boy. I’m half in love with him myself, + and Dallas trots around at his heels like a poodle.” + </p> + <p> + But all Anne’s geese are swans, so I thought little of the Harbison man + except to hope that he played respectable bridge, and wouldn’t mark the + cards with a steel spring under his finger nail, as one of her “finds” had + done. + </p> + <p> + We all arrived about the same time, and Anne and I went upstairs together + to take off our wraps in what had been Bella’s dressing room. It was Anne + who noticed the violets. + </p> + <p> + “Look at that!” she nudged me, when the maid was examining her wrap before + she laid it down. “What did I tell you, Kit? He’s still quite mad about + her.” + </p> + <p> + Jim had painted Bella’s portrait while they were going up the Nile on + their wedding trip. It looked quite like her, if you stood well off in the + middle of the room and if the light came from the right. And just beneath + it, in a silver vase, was a bunch of violets. It was really touching, and + violets were fabulous. It made me want to cry, and to shake Bella soundly, + and to go down and pat Jim on his generous shoulder, and tell him what a + good fellow I thought him, and that Bella wasn’t worth the dust under his + feet. I don’t know much about psychology, but it would be interesting to + know just what effect those violets and my sympathy for Jim had in + influencing my decision a half hour later. It is not surprising, under the + circumstances, that for some time after the odor of violets made me ill. + </p> + <p> + We all met downstairs in the living room, quite informally, and Dallas was + banging away at the pianola, tramping the pedals with the delicacy and + feeling of a football center rush kicking a goal. Mr. Harbison was + standing near the fire, a little away from the others, and he was all that + Anne had said and more in appearance. He was tall—not too tall, and + very straight. And after one got past the oddity of his face being + bronze-colored above his white collar, and of his brown hair being + sun-bleached on top until it was almost yellow, one realized that he was + very handsome. He had what one might call a resolute nose and chin, and a + pleasant, rather humorous, mouth. And he had blue eyes that were, at that + moment, wandering with interest over the lot of us. Somebody shouted his + name to me above the Tristan and Isolde music, and I held out my hand. + </p> + <p> + Instantly I had the feeling one sometimes has, of having done just that + same thing, with the same surroundings, in the same place, years before, I + was looking up at him, and he was staring down at me and holding my hand. + And then the music stopped and he was saying: + </p> + <p> + “Where was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Where was what?” I asked. The feeling was stronger than ever with his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said, and let my hand drop. “Just for a second I + had an idea that we had met before somewhere, a long time ago. I suppose—no, + it couldn’t have happened, or I should remember.” He was smiling, half at + himself. + </p> + <p> + “No,” I smiled back at him. “It didn’t happen, I’m afraid—unless we + dreamed it.” + </p> + <p> + “We?” + </p> + <p> + “I felt that way, too, for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “The Brushwood Boy!” he said with conviction. “Perhaps we will find a + common dream life, where we knew each other. You remember the Brushwood + Boy loved the girl for years before they really met.” But this was a + little too rapid, even for me. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing so sentimental, I’m afraid,” I retorted. “I have had exactly the + same sensation sometimes when I have sneezed.” + </p> + <p> + Betty Mercer captured him then and took him off to see Jim’s newest + picture. Anne pounced on me at once. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t he delicious?” she demanded. “Did you ever see such shoulders? And + such a nose? And he thinks we are parasites, cumberers of the earth, + Heaven knows what. He says every woman ought to know how to earn her + living, in case of necessity! I said I could make enough at bridge, and he + thought I was joking! He’s a dear!” Anne was enthusiastic. + </p> + <p> + I looked after him. Oddly enough the feeling that we had met before stuck + to me. Which was ridiculous, of course, for we learned afterward that the + nearest we ever came to meeting was that our mothers had been school + friends! Just then I saw Jim beckoning to me crazily from the den. He + looked quite yellow, and he had been running his fingers through his hair. + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven’s sake, come in, Kit!” he said. “I need a cool head. Didn’t I + tell you this is my calamity day?” + </p> + <p> + “Cook gone?” I asked with interest. I was starving. + </p> + <p> + He closed the door and took up a tragic attitude in front of the fire. + “Did you ever hear of Aunt Selina?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I knew there WAS one,” I ventured, mindful of certain gossip as to whence + Jimmy derived the Wilson income. + </p> + <p> + Jim himself was too worried to be cautious. He waved a brazen hand at the + snug room, at the Japanese prints on the walls, at the rugs, at the + teakwood cabinets and the screen inlaid with pearl and ivory. + </p> + <p> + “All this,” he said comprehensively, “every bite I eat, clothes I wear, + drinks I drink—you needn’t look like that; I don’t drink so darned + much—everything comes from Aunt Selina—buttons,” he finished + with a groan. + </p> + <p> + “Selina Buttons,” I said reflectively. “I don’t remember ever having known + any one named Buttons, although I had a cat once—” + </p> + <p> + “Damn the cat!” he said rudely. “Her name isn’t Buttons. Her name is + Caruthers, my Aunt Selina Caruthers, and the money comes from buttons.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” feebly. + </p> + <p> + “It’s an old business,” he went on, with something of proprietary pride. + “My grandfather founded it in 1775. Made buttons for the Continental + Army.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” I said. “They melted the buttons to make bullets, didn’t they? + Or they melted bullets to make buttons? Which was it?” + </p> + <p> + But again he interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “It’s like this,” he went on hurriedly. “Aunt Selina believes in me. She + likes pictures, and she wanted me to paint, if I could. I’d have given up + long ago—oh, I know what you think of my work—but for Aunt + Selina. She has encouraged me, and she’s done more than that; she’s paid + the bills.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Aunt Selina,” I breathed. + </p> + <p> + “When I got married,” Jim persisted, “Aunt Selina doubled my allowance. I + always expected to sell something, and begin to make money, and in the + meantime what she advanced I considered as a loan.” He was eyeing me + defiantly, but I was growing serious. It was evident from the preamble + that something was coming. + </p> + <p> + “To understand, Kit,” he went on dubiously, “you would have to know her. + She won’t stand for divorce. She thinks it is a crime.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” I sat up. I have always regarded divorce as essentially + disagreeable, like castor oil, but necessary. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know well enough what I’m driving at,” he burst out savagely. + “She doesn’t know Bella has gone. She thinks I am living in a little + domestic heaven, and—she is coming tonight to hear me flap my + wings.” + </p> + <p> + “Tonight!” + </p> + <p> + I don’t think Jimmy had known that Dallas Brown had come in and was + listening. I am sure I had not. Hearing his chuckle at the doorway brought + us up with a jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Where has Aunt Selina been for the last two or three years?” he asked + easily. + </p> + <p> + Jim turned, and his face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “Europe. Look here, Dal, you’re a smart chap. She’ll only be here about + four hours. Can’t you think of some way to get me out of this? I want to + let her down easy, too. I’m mighty fond of Aunt Selina. Can’t we—can’t + I say Bella has a headache?” + </p> + <p> + “Rotten!” laconically. + </p> + <p> + “Gone out of town?” Jim was desperate. + </p> + <p> + “And you with a houseful of dinner guests! Try again, Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “I have it,” Jim said suddenly. “Dallas, ask Anne if she won’t play + hostess for tonight. Be Mrs. Wilson pro tem. Anne would love it. Aunt + Selina never saw Bella. Then, afterward, next year, when I’m hung in the + Academy and can stand on my feet”—(“Not if you’re hung,” Dallas + interjected.)—“I’ll break the truth to her.” + </p> + <p> + But Dallas was not enthusiastic. + </p> + <p> + “Anne wouldn’t do at all,” he declared. “She’d be talking about the kids + before she knew it, and patting me on the head.” He said it complacently; + Anne flirts, but they are really devoted. + </p> + <p> + “One of the Mercer girls?” I suggested, but Jimmy raised a horrified hand. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know Aunt Selina,” he protested. “I couldn’t offer Leila in the + gown she’s got on, unless she wore a shawl, and Betty is too fair.” + </p> + <p> + Anne came in just then, and the whole story had to be told again to her. + She was ecstatic. She said it was good enough for a play, and that of + course she would be Mrs. Jimmy for that length of time. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” she finished, “if it were not for Dal, I would be Mrs. Jimmy + for ANY length of time. I have been devoted to you for years, Billiken.” + </p> + <p> + But Dallas refused peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not jealous,” he explained, straightening and throwing out his chest, + “but—well, you don’t look the part, Anne. You’re—you are + growing matronly, not but what you suit ME all right. And then I’d forget + and call you ‘mammy,’ which would require explanation. I think it’s up to + you, Kit.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do nothing of the sort!” I snapped. “It’s ridiculous!” + </p> + <p> + “I dare you!” said Dallas. + </p> + <p> + I refused. I stood like a rock while the storm surged around me and beat + over me. I must say for Jim that he was merely pathetic. He said that my + happiness was first; that he would not give me an uncomfortable minute for + anything on earth; and that Bella had been perfectly right to leave him, + because he was a sinking ship, and deserved to be turned out penniless + into the world. After which mixed figure, he poured himself something to + drink, and his hands were shaking. + </p> + <p> + Dal and Anne stood on each side of him and patted him on the shoulders and + glared across at me. I felt that if I was a rock, Jim’s ship had struck on + me and was sinking, as he said, because of me. I began to crumble. + </p> + <p> + “What—what time does she leave?” I asked, wavering. + </p> + <p> + “Ten: nine; KIT, are you going to do it?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” I gave a last clutch at my resolution. “People who do that kind of + thing always get into trouble. She might miss her train. She’s almost + certain to miss her train.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re temporizing,” Dallas said sternly. “We won’t let her miss her + train; you can be sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” Anne broke in suddenly, “hasn’t she a picture of Bella? There’s not + the faintest resemblance between Bella and Kit.” + </p> + <p> + Jim became downcast again. “I sent her a miniature of Bella a couple of + years ago,” he said despondently. “Did it myself.” + </p> + <p> + But Dal said he remembered the miniature, and it looked more like me than + Bella, anyhow. So we were just where we started. And down inside of me I + had a premonition that I was going to do just what they wanted me to do, + and get into all sorts of trouble, and not be thanked for it after all. + Which was entirely correct. And then Leila Mercer came and banged at the + door and said that dinner had been announced ages ago and that everybody + was famishing. With the hurry and stress, and poor Jim’s distracted face, + I weakened. + </p> + <p> + “I feel like a cross between an idiot and a criminal,” I said shortly, + “and I don’t know particularly why every one thinks I should be the victim + for the sacrifice. But if you will promise to get her off early to her + train, and if you will stand by me and not leave me alone with her, I—I + might try it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, we’ll stand by you!” they said in chorus. “We won’t let you + stick!” And Dal said, “You’re the right sort of girl, Kit. And after it’s + all over, you’ll realize that it’s the biggest kind of lark. Think how you + are saving the old lady’s feeling! When you are an elderly person + yourself, Kit, you will appreciate what you are doing tonight.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, they said they would stand by me, and that I was a heroine and the + only person there clever enough to act the part, and that they wouldn’t + let me stick! I am not bitter now, but that is what they promised. Oh, I + am not defending myself; I suppose I deserved everything that happened. + But they told me that she would be there only between trains, and that she + was deaf, and that I had an opportunity to save a fellow-being from ruin. + So in the end I capitulated. + </p> + <p> + When they opened the door into the living room, Max Reed had arrived and + was helping to hide a decanter and glasses, and somebody said a cab was at + the door. + </p> + <p> + And that was the way it began. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter III. I MIGHT HAVE KNOWN IT + </h2> + <p> + The minute I had consented I regretted it. After all, what were Jimmy’s + troubles to me? Why should I help him impose on an unsuspecting elderly + woman? And it was only putting off discovery anyhow. Sooner or later, she + would learn of the divorce, and—Just at that instant my eyes fell on + Mr. Harbison—Tom Harbison, as Anne called him. He was looking on + with an amused, half-puzzled smile, while people were rushing around + hiding the roulette wheel and things of which Miss Caruthers might + disapprove, and Betty Mercer was on her knees winding up a toy bear that + Max had brought her. What would he think? It was evident that he thought + badly of us already—that he was contemptuously amused, and then to + have to ask him to lend himself to the deception! + </p> + <p> + With a gasp I hurled myself after Jimmy, only to hear a strange voice in + the hall and to know that I was too late. I was in for it, whatever was + coming. It was Aunt Selina who was coming—along the hall, followed + by Jim, who was mopping his face and trying not to notice the paralyzed + silence in the library. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina met me in the doorway. To my frantic eyes she seemed to tower + above us by at least a foot, and beside her Jimmy was a red, perspiring + cherub. + </p> + <p> + “Here she is,” Jimmy said, from behind a temporary eclipse of black cloak + and traveling bag. He was on top of the situation now, and he was + mendaciously cheerful. He had NOT said, “Here is my wife.” That would have + been a lie. No, Jimmy merely said, “Here she is.” If Aunt Selina chose to + think me Bella, was it not her responsibility? And if I chose to accept + the situation, was it not mine? Dallas Brown came forward gravely as Aunt + Selina folded over and kissed me, and surreptitiously patted me with one + hand while he held out the other to Miss Caruthers. I loathed him! + </p> + <p> + “We always expect something unusual from James, Miss Caruthers,” he said, + with his best manner, “but THIS—this is beyond our wildest dreams.” + </p> + <p> + Well, it’s too awful to linger over. Anne took her upstairs and into + Bella’s bedroom. It was a fancy of Jim’s to leave that room just as Bella + had left it, dusty dance cards and favors hanging around and a pair of + discarded slippers under the bed. I don’t think it had been swept since + Bella left it. I believe in sentiment, but I like it brushed and dusted + and the cobwebs off of it, and when Aunt Selina put down her bonnet, it + stirred up a gray-white cloud that made her cough. She did not say + anything, but she looked around the room grimly, and I saw her run her + finger over the back of a chair before she let Hannah, the maid, put her + cloak on it. + </p> + <p> + Anne looked frightened. She ran into Bella’s bath and wet the end of a + towel and when Hannah was changing Aunt Selina’s collar—her + concession to evening dress—Anne wiped off the obvious places on the + furniture. She did it stealthily, but Aunt Selina saw her in the glass. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that young woman’s name?” she asked me sharply, when Anne had + taken the towel out to hide it. + </p> + <p> + “Anne Brown, Mrs. Dallas Brown,” I replied meekly. Every one replied + meekly to Aunt Selina. + </p> + <p> + “Does she live here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” I said airily. “They are here to dinner, she and her husband. + They are old friends of Jim’s—and mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to have a good eye for dirt,” said Aunt Selina and went on + fastening her brooch. When she was finally ready, she took a bead purse + from somewhere about her waist and took out a half dollar. She held it up + before Hannah’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow morning,” she said sternly, “You take off that white cap and + that fol-de-rol apron and that black henrietta cloth, and put on a calico + wrapper. And when you’ve got this room aired and swept, Mrs. Wilson will + give you this.” + </p> + <p> + Hannah took two steps back and caught hold of a chair; she stared + helplessly from Aunt Selina to the half dollar, and then at me. Anne was + trying not to catch my eye. + </p> + <p> + “And another thing,” Aunt Selina said, from the head of the stairs, “I + sent those towels over from Ireland. Tell her to wash and bleach the one + Mrs. What’s-her-name Brown used as a duster.” + </p> + <p> + Anne was quite crushed as we went down the stairs. I turned once, half-way + down, and her face was a curious mixture of guilt and hopeless wrath. Over + her shoulder, I could see Hannah, wide-eyed and puzzled, staring after us. + </p> + <p> + Jim presented everybody, and then he went into the den and closed the door + and we heard him unlock the cellarette. Aunt Selina looked at Leila’s bare + shoulders and said she guessed she didn’t take cold easily, and + conversation rather languished. Max Reed was looking like a thundercloud, + and he came over to me with a lowering expression that I had learned to + dread in him. + </p> + <p> + “What fool nonsense is this?” he demanded. “What in the world possessed + you, Kit, to put yourself in such an equivocal position? Unless”—he + stopped and turned a little white—“unless you are going to marry + Jim.” + </p> + <p> + I am sorry for Max. He is such a nice boy, and good looking, too, if only + he were not so fierce, and did not want to make love to me. No matter what + I do, Max always disapproves of it. I have always had a deeply rooted + conviction that if I should ever in a weak moment marry Max, he would + disapprove of that, too, before I had done it very long. + </p> + <p> + “Are you?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes—a sign of unusually bad + humor. + </p> + <p> + “Am I what?” + </p> + <p> + “Going to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean Jim,” I said with dignity, “I haven’t made up my mind yet. + Besides, he hasn’t asked me.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina had been talking Woman’s Suffrage in front of the fireplace, + but now she turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the vase Cousin Jane Whitcomb sent you as a wedding present?” she + demanded, indicating a hideous urn-shaped affair on the mantel. It came to + me as an inspiration that Jim had once said it was an ancestral urn, so I + said without hesitation that it was. And because there was a pause and + every one was looking at us, I added that it was a beautiful thing. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “Hideous!” she said. “It looks like Cousin Jane, shape and coloring.” + </p> + <p> + Then she looked at it more closely, pounced on it, turned it upside down + and shook it. A card fell out, which Dallas picked up and gave her with a + bow. Jim had come out of the den and was dancing wildly around and + beckoning to me. By the time I had made out that that was NOT the vase + Cousin Jane had sent us as a wedding present, Aunt Selina had examined the + card. Then she glared across at me and, stooping, put the card in the + fire. I did not understand at all, but I knew I had in some way done the + unforgivable thing. Later, Dal told me it was HER card, and that she had + sent the vase to Jim at Christmas, with a generous check inside. When she + straightened from the fireplace, it was to a new theme, which she attacked + with her usual vigor. The vase incident was over, but she never forgot it. + She proved that she never did when she sent me two urn-shaped vases with + Paul and Virginia on them, when I—that is, later on. + </p> + <p> + “The Cause in England has made great strides,” she announced from the + fireplace. “Soon the hand that rocks the cradle will be the hand that + actually rules the world.” Here she looked at me. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not up on such things,” Max said blandly, having recovered some of + his good humor, “but—isn’t it usually a foot that rocks the cradle?” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina turned on him and Mr. Harbison, who were standing together, + with a snort. + </p> + <p> + “What have you, or YOU, ever done for the independence of woman?” she + demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison smiled. He had been looking rather grave until then. “We have + at least remained unmarried,” he retorted. And then dinner was again + announced. + </p> + <p> + He was to take me out, and he came across the room to where I sat + collapsed in a chair, and bent over me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said, looking down at me with his clear, disconcerting + gaze, “do you know that I have just grasped the situation? There was such + a noise that I did not hear your name, and I am only realizing now that + you are my hostess! I don’t know why I got the impression that this was a + bachelor establishment, but I did. Odd, wasn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + I positively couldn’t look away from him. My features seemed frozen, and + my eyes were glued to his. As for telling him the truth—well, my + tongue refused to move. I intended to tell him during dinner if I had an + opportunity; I honestly did. But the more I looked at him and saw how + candid his eyes were, and how stern his mouth might be, the more I + shivered at the plunge. And, of course, as everybody knows now, I didn’t + tell him at all. And every moment I expected that awful old woman to ask + me what I paid my cook, and when I had changed the color of my hair—Bella’s + being black. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was a half hour late when we finally went out, Jimmy leading off + with Aunt Selina, and I, as hostess, trailing behind the procession with + Mr. Harbison. Dallas took in the two Mercer girls, for we were one man + short, and Max took Anne. Leila Mercer was so excited that she wriggled, + and as for me, the candles and the orchids—everything—danced + around in a circle, and I just seemed to catch the back of my chair as it + flew past. Jim had ordered away the wines and brought out some weak and + cheap Chianti. Dallas looked gloomy at the change, but Jim explained in an + undertone that Aunt Selina didn’t approve of expensive vintages. + Naturally, the meal was glum enough. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina had had her dinner on the train, so she spent her time in + asking me questions the length of the table, and in getting acquainted + with me. She had brought a bottle of some sort of medicine downstairs with + her, and she took a claret-glassful, while she talked. The stuff was + called Pomona; shall I ever forget it? + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Harbison who first noticed Takahiro. Jimmy’s Jap had been the + only thing in the menage that Bella declared she had hated to leave. But + he was doing the strangest things: his little black eyes shifted + nervously, and he looked queer. + </p> + <p> + “What’s wrong with him?” Mr. Harbison asked me finally, when he saw that I + noticed. “Is he ill?” + </p> + <p> + Then Aunt Selina’s voice from the other end of the table: + </p> + <p> + “Bella,” she called, in a high shrill tone, “do you let James eat + cucumbers?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he must be,” I said hurriedly aside to Mr. Harbison. “See how his + hands shake!” But Selina would not be ignored. + </p> + <p> + “Cucumbers and strawberries,” she repeated impressively. “I was saying, + Bella, that cucumbers have always given James the most fearful + indigestion. And yet I see you serve them at your table. Do you remember + what I wrote you to give him when he has his dreadful spells?” + </p> + <p> + I was quite speechless; every one was looking, and no one could help. It + was clear Jim was racking his brain, and we sat staring desperately at + each other across the candles. Everything I had ever known faded from me, + eight pairs of eyes bored into me, Mr. Harbison’s politely amused. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t remember,” I said at last. “Really, I don’t believe—” Aunt + Selina smiled in a superior way. + </p> + <p> + “Now, don’t you recall it?” she insisted. “I said: ‘Baking soda in water + taken internally for cucumbers; baking soda and water externally, rubbed + on, when he gets that dreadful, itching strawberry rash.’” + </p> + <p> + I believe the dinner went on. Somebody asked Aunt Selina how much + over-charge she had paid in foreign hotels, and after that she was as + harmless as a dove. + </p> + <p> + Then half way through the dinner we heard a crash in Takahiro’s pantry, + and when he did not appear again, Jim got up and went out to investigate. + He was gone quite a little while, and when he came back he looked worried. + </p> + <p> + “Sick,” he replied to our inquiring glances. “One of the maids will come + in. They have sent for a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina was for going out at once and “fixing him up,” as she put it, + but Dallas gently interfered. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t, Miss Caruthers,” he said, in the deferential manner he had + adopted toward her. “You don’t know what it may be. He’s been looking + spotty all evening.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be scarlet fever,” Max broke in cheerfully. “I say, scarlet + fever on a Mongolian—what color would he be, Jimmy? What do yellow + and red make? Green?” + </p> + <p> + “Orange,” Jim said shortly. “I wish you people would remember that we are + trying to eat.” + </p> + <p> + The fact was, however, that no one was really eating, except Mr. Harbison + who had given up trying to understand us, considering, no doubt, our + subdued excitement as our normal condition. Ages afterward I learned that + he thought my face almost tragic that night, and that he supposed from the + way I glared across the table, that I had quarreled with my husband! + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you are not well,” he said at last, noticing my food + untouched on my plate. “We should not have come, any of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I am perfectly well,” I replied feverishly. “I am never ill. I—I + ate a late luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at me keenly. “Don’t let them stay and play bridge tonight,” he + urged. “Miss Caruthers can be an excuse, can she not? And you are really + fagged. You look it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it is only ill humor,” I said, looking directly at him. “I am + angry at myself. I have done something silly, and I hate to be silly.” + </p> + <p> + Max would have said “Impossible,” or something else trite. The Harbison + man looked at me with interested, serious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Is it too late to undo it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + And then and there I determined that he should never know the truth. He + could go back to South America and build bridges and make love to the + Spanish girls (or are they Spanish down there?) and think of me always as + a married woman, married to a dilettante artist, inclined to be stout—the + artist, not I—and with an Aunt Selina Caruthers who made buttons and + believed in the Cause. But never, NEVER should he think of me as a silly + little fool who pretended that she was the other man’s wife and had a lump + in her throat because when a really nice man came along, a man who knew + something more than polo and motors, she had to carry on the deception to + keep his respect, and be sedate and matronly, and see him change from + perfect open admiration at first to a hands-off-she-is-my-host’s-wife + attitude at last. + </p> + <p> + “It can never be undone,” I said soberly. + </p> + <p> + Well, that’s the picture as nearly as I can draw it: a round table with a + low centerpiece of orchids in lavenders and pink, old silver candlesticks + with filigree shades against the somber wainscoting; nine people, two of + them unhappy—Jim and I; one of them complacent—Aunt Selina; + one puzzled—Mr. Harbison; and the rest hysterically mirthful. Add + one sick Japanese butler and grind in the mills of the gods. + </p> + <p> + Every one promptly forgot Takahiro in the excitement of the game we were + all playing. Finally, however, Aunt Selina, who seemed to have Takahiro on + her mind, looked up from her plate. + </p> + <p> + “That Jap was speckled,” she asserted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s + measles. Has he been sniffling, James?” + </p> + <p> + “Has he been sniffling?” Jim threw across at me. + </p> + <p> + “I hadn’t noticed it,” I said meekly, while the others choked. + </p> + <p> + Max came to the rescue. “She refused to eat it,” he explained, distinctly + and to everybody, apropos absolutely of nothing. “It said on the + box, ‘ready cooked and predigested.’ She declared she didn’t care who + cooked it, but she wanted to know who predigested it.” + </p> + <p> + As every one wanted to laugh, every one did it then, and under cover of + the noise I caught Anne’s eye, and we left the dining room. The men + stayed, and by the very firmness with which the door closed behind us, I + knew that Dallas and Max were bringing out the bottles that Takahiro had + hidden. I was seething. When Aunt Selina indicated a desire to go over the + house (it was natural that she should want to; it was her house, in a way) + I excused myself for a minute and flew back to the dining room. + </p> + <p> + It was as I had expected. Jim hadn’t cheered perceptibly, and the rest + were patting him on the back, and pouring things out for him, and saying, + “Poor old Jim” in the most maddening way. And the Harbison man was looking + more and more puzzled, and not at all hilarious. + </p> + <p> + I descended on them like a thunderbolt. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it,” I cried shrewishly, with my back against the door. “Leave her + to me, all of you, and pat each other on the back, and say it’s gone + splendidly! Oh, I know you, every one!” Mr. Harbison got up and pulled out + a chair, but I couldn’t sit; I folded my arms on the back. “After a while, + I suppose, you’ll slip upstairs, the four of you, and have your game.” + They looked guilty. “But I will block that right now. I am going to stay—here. + If Aunt Selina wants me, she can find me—here!” + </p> + <p> + The first indication those men had that Mr. Harbison didn’t know the state + of affairs was when he turned and faced them. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wilson is quite right,” he said gravely. “We’re a selfish lot. If + Miss Caruthers is a responsibility, let us share her.” + </p> + <p> + “To arms!” Jim said, with an affectation of lightness, as they put their + glasses down, and threw open the door. Dal’s retort, “Whose?” was lost in + the confusion, and we went into the library. On the way Dallas managed to + speak to me. + </p> + <p> + “If Harbison doesn’t know, don’t tell him,” he said in an undertone. “He’s + a queer duck, in some ways; he mightn’t think it funny.” + </p> + <p> + “Funny,” I choked. “It’s the least funny thing I ever experienced. + Deceiving that Harbison man isn’t so bad—he thinks me crazy, anyhow. + He’s been staring his eyes out at me—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t wonder. You’re really lovely tonight, Kit, and you look like a + vixen.” + </p> + <p> + “But to deceive that harmless old lady—well, thank goodness, it’s + nine, and she leaves in an hour or so.” + </p> + <p> + But she didn’t and that’s the story. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter IV. THE DOOR WAS CLOSED + </h2> + <p> + It was infuriating to see how much enjoyment every one but Jim and myself + got out of the situation. They howled with mirth over the feeblest jokes, + and when Max told a story without any point whatever, they all had + hysteria. Immediately after dinner Aunt Selina had begun on the family + connection again, and after two bad breaks on my part, Jim offered to show + her the house. The Mercer girls trailed along, unwilling to lose any of + the possibilities. They said afterward that it was terrible: she went into + all the closets, and ran her hand over the tops of doors and kept getting + grimmer and grimmer. In the studio they came across a life study Jim was + doing and she shut her eyes and made the girls go out while he covered it + with a drapery. Lollie! Who did the Bacchante dance at three benefits last + winter and was learning a new one called “Eve”! + </p> + <p> + When they heard Aunt Selina on the second floor, Anne, Dal and Max sneaked + up to the studio for cigarettes, which left Mr. Harbison to me. I was in + the den, sitting in a low chair by the wood fire when he came in. He + hesitated in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Would you prefer being alone, or may I come in?” he asked. “Don’t mind + being frank. I know you are tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a headache, and I am sulking,” I said unpleasantly, “but at least + I am not actively venomous. Come in.” + </p> + <p> + So he came in and sat down across the hearth from me, and neither of us + said anything. The firelight flickered over the room, bringing out the + faded hues of the old Japanese prints on the walls, gleaming in the + mother-of-pearl eyes of the dragon on the screen, setting a grotesque god + on a cabinet to nodding. And it threw into relief the strong profile of + the man across from me, as he stared at the fire. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I am not very interesting,” I said at last, when he showed no + sign of breaking the silence. “The—the illness of the butler and—Miss + Caruthers’ arrival, have been upsetting.” + </p> + <p> + He suddenly roused with a start from a brown reverie. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said, “I—oh, of course not! I was wondering + if I—if you were offended at what I said earlier in the evening; the—Brushwood + Boy, you know, and all that.” + </p> + <p> + “Offended?” I repeated, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I have been living out of the world so long, and never seeing + any women but Indian squaws”—so there were no Spanish girls!—“that + I’m afraid I say what comes into my mind without circumlocution. And then—I + did not know you were married.” + </p> + <p> + “No, oh, no,” I said hastily. “But, of course, the more a woman is married—I + mean, you can not say too many nice things to married women. They—need + them, you know.” + </p> + <p> + I had floundered miserably, with his eyes on me, and I half expected him + to be shocked, or to say that married women should be satisfied with the + nice things their husbands say to them. But he merely remarked apropos of + nothing, or following a line of thought he had not voiced, that it was + trite but true that a good many men owed their success in life to their + wives. + </p> + <p> + “And a good many owe their wives to their success in life,” I retorted + cynically. At which he stared at me again. + </p> + <p> + It was then that the real complexity of the situation began to develop. + Some one had rung the bell and been admitted to the library and a maid + came to the door of the den. When she saw us she stopped uncertainly. Even + then it struck me that she looked odd, and she was not in uniform. + However, I was not informed at that time about bachelor establishments, + and the first thing she said, when she had asked to speak to me in the + hall, knocked her and her clothes clear out of my head. Evidently she knew + me. + </p> + <p> + “Miss McNair,” she said in a low tone. “There is a lady in the drawing + room, a veiled person, and she is asking for Mr. Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not find him?” I asked. “He is in the house, probably in the + studio.” + </p> + <p> + The girl hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, miss, but Miss Caruthers—” + </p> + <p> + Then I saw the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “Close the door into the drawing room, and I will + tell Mr. Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + But as the girl turned toward the doorway, the person in question appeared + in it, and raised her veil. I was perfectly paralyzed. It was Bella! Bella + in a fur coat and a veil, with the most tragic eyes I ever saw and + entirely white except for a dab of rouge in the middle of each cheek. We + stared at each other without speech. The maid turned and went down the + hall, and with that Bella came over to me and clutched me by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Who was being carried out into that ambulance?” she demanded, glaring at + me with the most awful intensity. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure I don’t know, Bella,” I said, wriggling away from her fingers. + “What in the world are you doing here? I thought you were in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “You are hiding something from me!” she accused. “It is Jim! I see it in + your face.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it isn’t,” I snapped. “It seems to me, really, Bella, that you and + Jim ought to be able to manage your own affairs, without dragging me in.” + It was not pleasant, but if she was suffering, so was I. “Jim is as well + as he ever was. He’s upstairs somewhere. I’ll send for him.” + </p> + <p> + She gripped me again, and held on while her color came back. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” she said, and she had quite got hold of + herself again. “I do not want to see him: I hope you don’t think, Kit, + that I came here to see James Wilson. Why, I have forgotten that there IS + such a person, and you know it.” + </p> + <p> + Somebody upstairs laughed, and I was growing nervous. What if Aunt Selina + should come down, or Mr. Harbison come out of the den? + </p> + <p> + “Why DID you come, then, Bella?” I inquired. “He may come in.” + </p> + <p> + “I was passing in the motor,” she said, and I honestly think she hoped I + would believe her, “and I saw that am—” She stopped and began again. + “I thought Jim was out of town, and I came to see Takahiro,” she said + brazenly. “He was devoted to me, and Evans is going to leave. I’ll tell + you what to do, Kit. I’ll go back to the dining room, and you send Taka + there. If any one comes, I can slip into the pantry.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s immoral,” I protested. “It’s immoral to steal your—” + </p> + <p> + “My own butler!” she broke in impatiently. “You’re not usually so + scrupulous, Kit. Hurry! I hear that hateful Anne Brown.” + </p> + <p> + So we slid back along the hall, and I rang for Takahiro. But no one came. + </p> + <p> + “I think I ought to tell you, Bella,” I said as we waited, and Bella was + staring around the room—“I think you ought to know that Miss + Caruthers is here.” + </p> + <p> + Bella shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Well, thank goodness,” she said, “I don’t have to see her. The only + pleasant thing I remember about my year of married life is that I did NOT + meet Aunt Selina.” + </p> + <p> + I rang again, but still there was no answer. And then it occurred to me + that the stillness below stairs was almost oppressive. Bella was noticing + things, too, for she began to fasten her veil again with a malicious + little smile. + </p> + <p> + “One of the things I remember my late husband saying,” she observed, “was + that HE could manage this house, and had done it for years, with flawless + service. Stand on the bell, Kit.” + </p> + <p> + I did. We stood there, with the table, just as it had been left, between + us, and waited for a response. Bella was growing impatient. She raised her + eyebrows (she is very handsome, Bella is) and flung out her chin as if she + had begun to enjoy the horrible situation. + </p> + <p> + I thought I heard a rattle of silver from the pantry just then, and I + hurried to the door in a rage. But the pantry was empty of servants and + full of dishes, and all the lights were out but one, which was burning + dimly. I could have sworn that I saw one of the servants duck into the + stairway to the basement, but when I got there the stairs were empty, and + something was burning in the kitchen below. + </p> + <p> + Bella had followed me and was peering over my shoulder curiously. + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t a servant in the house,” she said triumphantly. And when we + went down to the kitchen, she seemed to be right. It was in disgraceful + order, and one of the bottles of wine that had ben banished from the + dining room sat half empty on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Drunk!” Bella said with conviction. But I didn’t think so. There had not + been time enough, for one thing. Suddenly I remembered the ambulance that + had been the cause of Bella’s appearance—for no one could believe + her silly story about Takahiro. I didn’t wait to voice my suspicion to + her; I simply left her there, staring helplessly at the confusion, and ran + upstairs again: through the dining room, past Jimmy and Aunt Selina, past + Leila Mercer and Max, who were flirting on the stairs, up, up to the + servants’ bedrooms, and there my suspicions were verified. There was every + evidence of a hasty flight; in three bedrooms five trunks stood locked and + ominous, and the closets yawned with open doors, empty. Bella had been + right; there was not a servant in the house. + </p> + <p> + As I emerged from the untidy emptiness of the servants’ wing, I met Mr. + Harbison coming out of the studio. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would let me do some of this running about for you, Mrs. + Wilson,” he said gravely. “You are not well, and I can’t think of anything + worse for a headache. Has the butler’s illness clogged the household + machinery?” + </p> + <p> + “Worse,” I replied, trying not to breathe in gasps. “I wouldn’t be running + around—like this—but there is not a servant in the house! They + have gone, the entire lot.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s odd,” he said slowly. “Gone! Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + In reply I pointed to the servants’ wing. “Trunks packed,” I said + tragically, “rooms empty, kitchen and pantries, full of dishes. Did you + ever hear of anything like it?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” he asserted. “It makes me suspect—” What he suspected he + did not say; instead he turned on his heel, without a word of explanation, + and ran down the stairs. I stood staring after him, wondering if every one + in the place had gone crazy. Then I heard Betty Mercer scream and the rest + talking loud and laughing, and Mr. Harbison came up the stairs again two + at a time. + </p> + <p> + “How long has that Jap been ailing, Mrs. Wilson?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don’t know,” I replied helplessly. “What is the trouble, + anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he probably has something contagious,” he said, “and it has + scared the servants away. As Mr. Brown said, he looked spotty. I suggested + to your husband that it might be as well to get the house emptied—in + case we are correct.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, by all means,” I said eagerly. I couldn’t get away too soon. + “I’ll go and get my—” Then I stopped. Why, the man wouldn’t expect + me to leave; I would have to play out the wretched farce to the end! + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go down and see them off,” I finished lamely, and we went together + down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Just for the moment I forgot Bella altogether. I found Aunt Selina + bonneted and cloaked, taking a stirrup cup of Pomona for her nerves, and + the rest throwing on their wraps in a hurry. Downstairs Max was + telephoning for his car, which wasn’t due for an hour, and Jim was walking + up and down, swearing under his breath. With the prospect of getting rid + of them all, and, of going home comfortably to try to forget the whole + wretched affair, I cheered up quite a lot. I even played up my part of + hostess, and Dallas told me, aside, that I was a brick. + </p> + <p> + Just then Jim threw open the front door. + </p> + <p> + There was a man on the top step, with his mouth full of tacks, and he was + nailing something to the door, just below Jim’s Florentine bronze knocker, + and standing back with his head on one side to see if it was straight. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” Jim demanded fiercely, but the man only drove + another tack. It was Mr. Harbison who stepped outside and read the card. + </p> + <p> + It said “Smallpox.” + </p> + <p> + “Smallpox,” Mr. Harbison read, as if he couldn’t believe it. Then he + turned to us, huddled in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “It seems it wasn’t measles, after all,” he said cheerfully. “I move we + get into Mr. Reed’s automobile out there, and have a vaccination party. I + suppose even you blase society folk have not exhausted that kind of + diversion.” + </p> + <p> + But the man on the step spat his tacks in his hand and spoke for the first + time. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don’t,” he said. “Not on your life. Just step back, please, and + close the door. This house is quarantined.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter V. FROM THE TREE OF LOVE + </h2> + <p> + There is hardly any use trying to describe what followed. Anne Brown began + to cry, and talk about the children. (She went to Europe once and stayed + until they all got over the whooping cough.) And Dallas said he had a + pull, because his mill controlled I forget how many votes, and the thing + to do was to be quiet and comfortable and we would get out in the morning. + Max took it as a huge joke, and somebody found him at the telephone, + calling up his club. The Mercer girls were hysterically giggling, and Aunt + Selina sat on a stiff-backed chair and took aromatic spirits of ammonia. + As for Jim, he had collapsed on the lowest step of the stairs, and sat + there with his head in his hands. When he did look up, he didn’t dare to + look at me. + </p> + <p> + The Harbison man was arguing with the impassive individual on the top step + outside, and I saw him get out his pocketbook and offer a crisp bundle of + bills. But the man from the board of health only smiled and tacked at his + offensive sign. After a while Mr. Harbison came in and closed the door, + and we stared at one another. + </p> + <p> + “I know what I’m going to do,” I said, swallowing a lump in my throat. + “I’m going to get out through a basement window at the back. I’m going + home.” + </p> + <p> + “Home!” Aunt Selina gasped, jumping up and almost dropping her ammonia + bottle. “My dear Bella! Home?” + </p> + <p> + Jimmy groaned at the foot of the stairs, but Anne Brown was getting over + her tears and now she turned on me in a temper. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all your fault,” she said. “I was going to stay at home and get a + little sleep—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can sleep now,” Dallas broke in. “There’ll be nothing to do but + sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you haven’t grasped the situation, Dal,” I said icily. “There + will be plenty to do. There isn’t a servant in the house!” + </p> + <p> + “No servants!” everybody cried at once. The Mercer girls stopped giggling. + </p> + <p> + “Holy cats!” Max stopped in the act of hanging up his overcoat. “Do you + mean—why, I can’t shave myself! I’ll cut my head off.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll do more than that,” I retorted grimly. “You will carry coal and + tend fires and empty ash pans, and when you are not doing any of those + things there will be pots and pans to wash and beds to make.” + </p> + <p> + Then there WAS a row. We had worked back to the den now, and I stood in + front of the fireplace and let the storm beat around me, and tried to look + perfectly cold and indifferent, and not to see Mr. Harbison’s shocked + face. No wonder he thought them a lot of savages, browbeating their + hostess the way they did. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a fool thing anyhow,” Max Reed wound up, “to celebrate the + anniversary of a divorce—especially—” Here he caught Jim’s eye + and stopped. But I had suddenly remembered. BELLA DOWN IN THE BASEMENT! + </p> + <p> + Could anything have been worse? And of course she would have hysteria and + then turn on me and blame me for it all. It all came over me at once and + overwhelmed me, while Anne was crying and saying she wouldn’t cook if she + starved for it, and Aunt Selina was taking off her wraps. I felt queer all + over, and I sat down suddenly. Mr. Harbison was looking at me, and he + brought me a glass of wine. + </p> + <p> + “It won’t be so bad as you fear,” he said comfortingly. “There will be no + danger once we are vaccinated, and many hands make light work. They are + pretty raw now, because the thing is new to them, but by morning they will + be reconciled.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t the work; it is something entirely different,” I said. And it + was. Bella and work could hardly be spoken in the same breath. + </p> + <p> + If I had only turned her out as she deserved to be, when she first came, + instead of allowing her to carry through the wretched farce about seeing + Takahiro! Or if I had only run to the basement the moment the house was + quarantined, and got her out the areaway or the coal hole! And now time + was flying, and Aunt Selina had me by the arm, and any moment I expected + Bella to pounce on us through the doorway and the whole situation to + explode with a bang. + </p> + <p> + It was after eleven before they were rational enough to discuss ways and + means, and, of course, the first thing suggested was that we all adjourn + below stairs and clean up after dinner. I could have slain Max Reed for + the notion, and the Mercer girls for taking him up. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we will,” they said in a duet. “What a lark!” And they actually + began to pin up their dinner gowns. It was Jim who stopped that. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, look here, you people,” he objected, “I’m not going to let you do + that. We’ll get some servants in tomorrow. I’ll go down and put out the + lights. There will be enough clean dishes for breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + It was lucky for me that they started a new discussion then and there + about who would get the breakfast. In the midst of the excitement I + slipped away to carry the news to Bella. She was where I had left her, and + she had made herself a cup of tea, and was very much at home, which was + natural. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said ominously, “that you have been away for two hours; + and that I have gone through agonies of nervousness for fear Jim Wilson + would come down and think I came here to see him?” + </p> + <p> + “No one would think that, Bella,” I soothed her. “Everybody knows you + loathe him—Jim, too.” She looked at me over the edge of her cup. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll run along now,” she said, “since Takahiro isn’t here. And if Jim has + any sense at all, he will clear out every maid in the house. I never saw + such a kitchen in all my life. Well, lead the way, Kit. I suppose they are + deep in bridge, or roulette, or something.” + </p> + <p> + She was fixing her veil, and I saw I would have to tell her. Personally, I + would much rather have told her the house was on fire. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, Bella,” I said. “You see, something queer has happened. + You know this is the anniversary—well, you know what it is—and + Jim was awfully glum. So we thought we would come—” + </p> + <p> + “What are you driving at?” she demanded. “You are sea-green, Kit. What’s + the matter? You needn’t think I mind because Jim has a jollification to + celebrate his divorce.” + </p> + <p> + “It—it was Takahiro—in the ambulance,” I blurted. “Smallpox. + We—Bella, we are shut in, quarantined.” + </p> + <p> + She didn’t faint. She just sat down and stared at me, and I stared back at + her. Then a miserable alarm clock on the table suddenly went off like an + explosion, and Bella began to laugh. I knew what that was—hysteria. + She always had attacks like that when things went wrong. I was quite + despairing by that time; I hoped they would all hear her and come + downstairs and take her up and put her to bed like a Christian, so she + could giggle her soul out. But after a bit she quieted down and began to + cry softly, and I knew the worst was over. I gave her a shake, and she was + so angry that she got over it altogether. + </p> + <p> + “Kit, you are horrid,” she choked. “Don’t you see what a position I am in? + I am not going upstairs to face Anne and the rest of them. You can just + put me in the coal cellar.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t there a window you could get through?” I asked desperately. + “Locking the door doesn’t shut up a whole house.” + </p> + <p> + Bella’s courage revived at that, and she said yes, there were windows, + plenty of them, only she didn’t see how she could get out. And I said she + would HAVE to get out, because I was playing Bella in the performance, and + I didn’t care to have an understudy. Then the situation dawned on her, and + she sat down and laughed herself weak in the knees. Of course she wanted + to stay, then, and see the fun out. But I was firm; she would have to go, + and I told her so. Things were complicated enough without her. + </p> + <p> + Well, we looked funny, no doubt, Bella in a Russian pony automobile coat + over the black satin she had worn at the Clevelands’ dinner, and I in + cream lace, the skirt gathered up from the kitchen floor, with Bella’s + ermine pelerine around my bare shoulders, and dishes and overturned chairs + everywhere. + </p> + <p> + Bella knew more about the lower regions of her ex-home than I would have + thought. She opened a door in a corner and led the way through a narrow + hall past the refrigerating room, to a huge, cemented cellar, with a + furnace in the center, and a half-dozen electric lights making it really + brilliant. + </p> + <p> + “Get a chair,” Bella said over her shoulder, excitedly. “I can get out + easily here, through the coal hole. Imagine my—” + </p> + <p> + But it was my turn to grip Bella. From behind the furnace were coming the + most terrible sounds, rasping noises that fairly frayed the silk of my + nerves. We stood petrified for an instant. Then Bella laughed. “They are + not all gone,” she said carefully. “Some one is asleep there.” + </p> + <p> + We tiptoed to where we could see around the furnace, and, sure enough, + some one WAS asleep there. Only, it was not one of the servants; it was a + portly policeman, with a newspaper and an empty plate on the floor on one + side, and a champagne bottle on the other. He had slid down in his chair, + with his chin on his brass buttons, and his helmet had rolled a dozen feet + away. Bella had to clap her hand over her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Fairly caught!” she whispered. “Sartor Resartus, the arrester arrested. + Oh, Jim and his flawless service!” + </p> + <p> + But after we got over our surprise, we saw the situation was serious. The + policeman was threatening to awaken. Once he stopped snoring to yawn + noisily, and we beat a hasty retreat. Bella switched off the lights in a + hurry and locked the door behind us. We hardly breathed until we were back + in the kitchen again, and everything quiet. And then Jimmy called my name + from up above somewheres. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to call him down, Bella,” I said firmly. “Let him help you + out. I’m sure I don’t see why I should have all this when the two of you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no! Surely, Kit, you wouldn’t be so cruel!” she whispered + pleadingly. “You know what he would think. He—oh, Kit, let them all + get settled for the night, and then come down, like a dear, and help me + out. I know loads of ways—honestly I do.” + </p> + <p> + “If I leave you here,” I debated, “what about the policeman?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind him”—frantically. “Listen! There’s Jim up in the pantry. + Run, for the sake of Heaven!” + </p> + <p> + So—I ran. At the top of the stairs I met Jimmy, very crumpled as to + shirt-front and dejected as to face. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been hunting everywhere for you,” he said dismally. “I thought you + had added to the general merriment by falling downstairs and breaking your + neck.” + </p> + <p> + I went past him with my chin up. Now that I had time to think about it, I + was furiously angry with him. + </p> + <p> + “Kit!” he called after me appealingly, but I would not hear. Then he + adopted different tactics. He took advantage of my catching my foot in the + lace of my gown to pass me, and to stand with his back against the door. + </p> + <p> + “You’re not going until you hear me, Kit,” he declared miserably. “In the + first place, for all you are down on me, is it my fault? Honestly, now IS + IT MY FAULT?” + </p> + <p> + I refused to speak. + </p> + <p> + “I was coming home to be miserable alone,” he went on, “and—oh, I + know you meant well, Kit; but YOU asked all these crazy people here.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will give me credit for some things,” I said wearily. “I did + NOT give Takahiro smallpox, for instance, and—if you will permit me + to mention the fact—Aunt Selina is not MY Aunt Selina.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I wanted to speak to you about,” Jimmy went on wretchedly, + trying not to look at me. “You see, when they were rowing so about who + would get the breakfast—I never saw such a lot of people; half of + them never touch breakfast, but of course now they want all kinds of + things—when they were talking, Aunt Selina said she knew YOU would + get it, being the hostess, and responsible, besides knowing where things + are kept.” He had fixed his eyes on the orchids, and he looked shrunken, + actually shrunken. “I thought,” he finished, “you might give me a few + pointers now, and I could come down in the morning, and—and fuss up + something, coffee and so on. I would say you did it! Oh, hang it all, Kit, + why don’t you say something?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want me to say?” I demanded. “That I love to cook, and of + course I’ll fix trays and carry them up in the morning to Anne Brown and + Leila Mercer and the rest; and that I will have the shaving water ready—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what I’m going to do,” Jimmy said, with a sudden resolution. “Aunt + Selina and her money can go to blazes. I am going right upstairs and tell + her the truth, tell her who you are, what I am, and all the rest of it.” + He opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” I gasped, catching him in time. “Don’t + you dare, Jimmy Wilson! Why, what would they think of me? After letting + her call me Bella, and him—Jim, if Mr. Harbison ever learns the + truth—I—I will take poison. If we are going to be shut up here + together, we will have to carry it on. I couldn’t stand the disgrace.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of an heroic effort, Jim looked relieved. “They have been hunting + for the linen closet,” he said, more cheerfully, “and there will be room + enough, I think. Harbison and I will hang out in the studio; there are two + couches there. I’m afraid you’ll have to take Aunt Selina, Kit.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I said coldly. That was the way it was all along. Whenever + there was something to do that no one else would undertake—any + unpleasant responsibility—that entire mongrel household turned with + one gesture and pointed its finger at me! Well, it is over now, and I + ought not to be bitter, considering everything. + </p> + <p> + It was quite characteristic of that memorable evening (that is quite + novelesque, I think) that my interview with Jimmy should have a + sensational ending. He was terribly down, of course, and as I was trying + to pass him to get to the door, he caught my hand. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a girl in a thousand, Kit,” he said forlornly. “If I were not so + damnably, hopelessly, idiotically in love with—somebody else, I + should be crazy about you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be maudlin,” I retorted. “Would you mind letting my hand go?” I + felt sure Bella could hear. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now, Kit,” he implored, “we’ve always got along so well. It’s a + shame to let a thing like this make us bad friends. Aren’t you ever going + to forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” I said promptly. “When I once get away, I don’t want ever to see + you again. I was never so humiliated in my life. I loathe you!” + </p> + <p> + Then I turned around, and, of course, there was Aunt Selina with her eyes + protruding until you could have knocked them off with a stick, and beside + her, very red and uncomfortable, Mr. Harbison! + </p> + <p> + “Bella!” she said in a shocked voice, “is that the way you speak to your + husband! It is high time I came here, I think, and took a hand in this + affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind, Aunt Selina,” Jim said, with a sheepish grin. “Kit—Bella + is tired and nervous. This is a h—deuce of a situation. No—er—servants, + and all that.” + </p> + <p> + But Aunt Selina did mind, and showed it. She pulled the unlucky Harbison + man through the door and closed it, and then stood glaring at both of us. + </p> + <p> + “Every little quarrel is an apple knocked from the tree of love,” she + announced oratorically. + </p> + <p> + “This was a very little quarrel,” Jim said, edging toward the door; “a—a + green apple, Aunt Selina, a colicky little green apple.” But she was not + to be diverted. + </p> + <p> + “Bella,” she said severely, “you said you loathed him. You didn’t mean + that.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do!” I cried hysterically. “There isn’t any word to tell how I—how + I detest him.” + </p> + <p> + Then I swept past them all and flew to Bella’s dressing room and locked + myself in. Aunt Selina knocked until she was tired, then gave up and went + to bed. + </p> + <p> + That was the night Anne Brown’s pearl collar was stolen! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter VI. A MIGHTY POOR JOKE + </h2> + <p> + Of course, one knows that there are people who in a different grade of + society would be shoplifters and pickpockets. When they are restrained by + obligation or environment they become a little overkeen at bridge, or take + the wrong sables, or stuff a gold-backed brush into a muff at a reception. + You remember the ivory dressing set that Theodora Bucknell had, fastened + with fine gold chains? And the sensation it caused at the Bucknell + cotillion when Mrs. Van Zire went sweeping to her carriage with two feet + of gold chain hanging from the front of her wrap? + </p> + <p> + But Anne’s pearl collar was different. In the first place, instead of + three or four hundred people, the suspicion had to be divided among ten. + And of those ten, at least eight of us were friends, and the other two had + been vouched for by the Browns and Jimmy. It was a horrible mix-up. For + the necklace was gone—there couldn’t be any doubt of that—and + although, as Dallas said, it couldn’t get out of the house, still, there + were plenty of places to hide the thing. + </p> + <p> + The worst of our trouble really originated with Max Reed, after all. For + it was Max who made the silly wager over the telephone, with Dick Bagley. + He bet five hundred even that one of us, at least, would break quarantine + within the next twenty-four hours, and, of course, that settled it. Dick + told it around the club as a joke, and a man who owns a newspaper heard + him and called up the paper. Then the paper called up the health office, + after setting up a flaming scare-head, “Will Money Free Them? Board of + Health versus Millionaire.” + </p> + <p> + It was almost three when the house settled down—nobody had any night + clothes, although finally, through Dallas, who gave them to Anne, who gave + them to the rest, we got some things of Jimmy’s—and I was still + dressed. The house was perfectly quiet, and, after listening carefully, I + went slowly down the stairs. There was a light in the hall, and another + back in the dining room, and I got along without any trouble. But the + pantry, where the stairs led down, was dark, and the wretched swinging + door would not stay open. + </p> + <p> + I caught my skirt in the door as I went through, and I had to stop to + loosen it. And in that awful minute I heard some one breathing just beside + me. I had stooped to my gown, and I turned my head without straightening—I + couldn’t have raised myself to an erect posture, for my knees were giving + way under me—and just at my feet lay the still glowing end of a + match! + </p> + <p> + I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said sharply: + </p> + <p> + “Who’s there?” + </p> + <p> + The man was so close it is a wonder I had not walked into him; his voice + was right at my ear. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I startled you,” he said quietly. “I was afraid to speak + suddenly, or move, for fear I would do—what I have done.” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Harbison. + </p> + <p> + “I—I thought you were—it is very late,” I managed to say, with + dry lips. “Do you know where the electric switch is?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wilson!” It was clear he had not known me before. “Why, no; don’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am all confused,” I muttered, and beat a retreat into the dining room. + There, in the friendly light, we could at least see each other, and I + think he was as much impressed by the fact that I had not undressed as I + was by the fact that he HAD, partly. He wore a hideous dressing gown of + Jimmy’s, much too small, and his hair, parted and plastered down in the + early evening, stood up in a sort of brown brush all over his head. He was + trying to flatten it with his hands. + </p> + <p> + “It must be three o’clock,” he said, with polite surprise, “and the house + is like a barn. You ought not to be running around with your arms + uncovered, Mrs. Wilson. Surely you could have called some of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t wish to disturb any one,” I said, with distinct truth. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you are like me,” he said. “The novelty of the situation—and + everything. I got to thinking things over, and then I realized the studio + was getting cold, so I thought I would come down and take a look at the + furnace. I didn’t suppose any one else would think of it. But I lost + myself in that pantry, stumbled against a half-open drawer, and nearly + went down the dumb-waiter.” And, as if in judgment on me, at that instant + came two rather terrific thumps from somewhere below, and inarticulate + words, shouted rather than spoken. It was uncanny, of course, coming as it + did through the register at our feet. Mr. Harbison looked startled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by the way,” I said, as carelessly as I could. “In the excitement, I + forgot to mention it. There is a policeman asleep in the furnace room. I—I + suppose we will have to keep him now,” I finished as airily as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a policeman—in the cellar,” he repeated, staring at me, and he + moved toward the pantry door. + </p> + <p> + “You needn’t go down,” I said feverishly, with visions of Bella Knowles + sitting on the kitchen table, surrounded by soiled dishes and all the + cheerless aftermath of a dinner party. “Please don’t go down. I—it’s + one of my rules—never to let a stranger go down to the kitchen. I—I’m + peculiar—that way—and besides, it’s—it’s mussy.” + </p> + <p> + Bang! Crash! through the register pipe, and some language quite + articulate. Then silence. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mrs. Wilson,” he said resolutely. “What do I care about the + kitchen? I’m going down and arrest that policeman for disturbing the + peace. He will have the pipes down.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not go,” I said with desperate firmness. “He—he is + probably in a very dangerous state just now. We—I—locked him + in.” + </p> + <p> + The Harbison man grinned and then became serious. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you tell me the whole thing?” he demanded. “You’ve been in + trouble all evening, and—you can trust me, you know, because I am a + stranger; because the minute this crazy quarantine is raised I am off to + the Argentine Republic,” (perhaps he said Chili) “and because I don’t know + anything at all about you. You see, I have to believe what you tell me, + having no personal knowledge of any of you to go on. Now tell me—whom + have you hidden in the cellar, besides the policeman?” + </p> + <p> + There was no use trying to deceive him; he was looking straight into my + eyes. So I decided to make the best of a bad thing. Anyhow, it was going + to require strength to get Bella through the coal hole with one arm and + restrain the policeman with the other. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” I said, making a sudden resolution, and led the way down the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + He said nothing when he saw Bella, for which I was grateful. She was + sitting at the table, with her arms in front of her, and her head buried + in them. And then I saw she was asleep. Her hat and veil were laid beside + her, and she had taken off her coat and draped it around her. She had + rummaged out a cold pheasant and some salad, and had evidently had a + little supper. Supper and a nap, while I worried myself gray-headed about + her! + </p> + <p> + “She—she came in unexpectedly—something about the butler,” I + explained under my breath. “And—she doesn’t want to stay. She is on + bad terms with—with some of the people upstairs. You can see how + impossible the situation is.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if we can get her out,” he said, as if the situation were quite + ordinary. “However, we can try. She seems very comfortable. It’s a pity to + rouse her.” + </p> + <p> + Here the prisoner in the furnace room broke out afresh. It sounded as + though he had taken a lump of coal and was attacking the lock. Mr. + Harbison followed the noise, and I could hear him arguing, not gently. + </p> + <p> + “Another sound,” he finished, “and you won’t get out of here at all, + unless you crawl up the furnace pipe!” + </p> + <p> + When he came back, Bella was rousing. She lifted her head with her eyes + shut and then opened them one at a time, blinked, and sat up. She didn’t + see him at first. + </p> + <p> + “You wretch!” she said ungratefully, after she had yawned. “Do you know + what time it is? And that—” Then she saw Mr. Harbison and sat + staring at him. + </p> + <p> + “This is Mr. Harbison,” I said to her hastily. “He—he came with Anne + and Dal and—he is shut in, too.” + </p> + <p> + By that time Bella had seen how handsome he was, and she took a hair pin + out of her mouth, and arched her eyebrows, which was always Bella’s best + pose. + </p> + <p> + “I am Miss Knowles,” she said sweetly (of course, the court had given her + back her name), “and I stopped in tonight, thinking the house was empty, + to see about a—a butler. Unfortunately, the house was quarantined + just at that time, and—here I am. Surely there can not be any harm + in helping me to get out?” (Pleading tone.) “I have not been exposed to + any contagion, and in the exhausted state of my health the confinement + would be positively dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + She rolled her eyes at him, and I could see she was making an impression. + Of course she was free. She had a perfect right to marry again, but I will + say this: Bella is a lot better looking by electric light than she is the + next morning. + </p> + <p> + The upshot of it was that the gentleman who built bridges and looked down + on society from a lofty, lonely pinnacle agreed to help one of the most + gleaming members of the aforesaid society to outwit the law. + </p> + <p> + It took about fifteen minutes to quiet the policeman. Nobody ever knew + what Mr. Harbison did to him, but for twenty-four hours he was quite + tractable. He changed after that, but that comes later in the story. + Anyhow, the Harbison man went upstairs and came down with a Bagdad curtain + and a cushion to match, and took them into the furnace room, and came out + and locked the door behind him, and then we were ready for Bella’s escape. + </p> + <p> + But there were four special officers and three reporters watching the + house, as a result of Max Reed’s idiocy. Once, after trying all the other + windows and finding them guarded, we discovered a little bit of a hole in + an out-of-the-way corner that looked like a ventilator and was covered + with a heavy wire screen. No prisoners ever dug their way out of a dungeon + with more energy than that with which we attached that screen, hacking at + it with kitchen knives, whispering like conspirators, being scratched with + the ragged edges of the wire, frozen with the cold air one minute and + boiling with excitement the next. And when the wire was cut, and Bella had + rolled her coat up and thrust it through and was standing on a chair ready + to follow, something outside that had looked like a barrel moved, and + said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It would be certain to be + undignified, and probably it would be unpleasant—later.” + </p> + <p> + We coaxed and pleaded and tried to bribe, and that happened, as it turned + out, to be one of the worst things we had to endure. For the whole + conversation came out the next afternoon in the paper, with the most awful + drawings, and the reporter said it was the flashing of the jewels we wore + that first attracted his attention. And that brings me back to the + robbery. + </p> + <p> + For when we had crept back to the kitchen, and Bella was fumbling for her + handkerchief to cry into and the Harbison man was trying to apologize for + the language he had used to the reporter, and I was on the verge of a + nervous chill—well, it was then that Bella forgot all about crying + and jumped and held out her arm. + </p> + <p> + “My diamond bracelet!” she screeched. “Look, I’ve lost it.” + </p> + <p> + Well, we went over every inch of that basement, until I knew every crack + in the flooring, every spot on the cement. And Bella was nasty, and said + that she had never seen that part of the house in such condition, and that + if I had acted like a sane person and put her out, when she had no + business there at all, she would have had her freedom and her bracelet, + and that if we were playing a joke on her (as if we felt like joking!) we + would please give her the bracelet and let her go and die in a corner; she + felt very queer. + </p> + <p> + At half-past four o’clock we gave up. + </p> + <p> + “It’s gone,” I said. “I don’t believe you wore it here. No one could have + taken it. There wasn’t a soul in this part of the house, except the + policeman and he’s locked in.” + </p> + <p> + At five o’clock we put her to sleep in the den. She was in a fearful + temper, and I was glad enough to be able to shut the door on her. Tom + Harbison—that was his name—helped me to creep upstairs, and + wanted to get me a glass of ale to make me sleep. But I said it would be + of no use, as I had to get up and get the breakfast. The last thing he + said was that the policeman seemed above the average in intelligence, and + perhaps we could train him to do plain cooking and dishwashing. + </p> + <p> + I did not go to sleep at once. I lay on the chintz-covered divan in + Bella’s dressing room and stared at the picture of her with the violets + underneath. I couldn’t see what there was about Bella to inspire such + undying devotion, but I had to admit that she had looked handsome that + night, and that the Harbison man had certainly been impressed. + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock Jimmy Wilson pounded at my door, and I could have choked + him joyfully. I dragged myself to the door and opened it, and then I heard + excited voices. Everybody seemed to be up but Aunt Selina, and they were + all talking at once. + </p> + <p> + Anne Brown was in the corner of the group, waving her hands, while Dallas + was trying to hook the back of her gown with one hand and hold a blanket + around himself with the other. No one was dressed except Anne, and she had + been up for an hour, looking in shoes and under the corners of rugs and + around the bed clothing for her jeweled collar. When she saw me she began + all over again. + </p> + <p> + “I had it on when I went into my room,” she declared, “and I put it on the + dressing table when I undressed. I meant to put it under my pillow, but I + forgot. And I didn’t sleep well; I was awake half the night. Wasn’t I, + Dal? Then, when the clock downstairs in the hall was chiming five, + something roused me, and I sat up in bed. It was still dark, but I pinched + Dal and said there was somebody in the room. You remember that, don’t you, + Dal?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had nightmare,” he said sheepishly. + </p> + <p> + “I lay still for ages, it seemed to me, and then—the door into the + hall closed. I heard the catch click. I turned on the light over the bed + then, and the room was empty. I thought of my collar, and although it + seemed ridiculous, with the house sealed as it is, and all of us friends + for years—well, I got up and looked, and it was gone!” + </p> + <p> + No one spoke for an instant. It WAS a queer situation, for the collar was + gone; Anne’s red eyes showed it was true. And there we stood, every one of + us a miserable picture of guilt, and tried to look innocent and debonair + and unsuspicious. Finally Jim held up his hand and signified that he + wanted to say something. + </p> + <p> + “It’s like this,” he said, “until this thing is cleared up, for Heaven’s + sake, let’s try to be sane! If every fellow thinks the other fellow did + it, this house will be a nice little hell to live in. And if anybody”—here + he glared around—“if anybody has got funny and is hiding those + jewels, I want to say that he’d better speak up now. Later, it won’t be so + easy for him. It’s a mighty poor joke.” + </p> + <p> + But nobody spoke. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter VII. WE MAKE AN OMELET + </h2> + <p> + It was Betty Mercer who said she was hungry, and got us switched from the + delicate subject of which was the thief to the quite as pressing subject + of which was to be cook. Aunt Selina had slept quietly through the whole + thing—we learned afterward that she customarily slept on her left + side, which was on her good ear. We gathered in the Dallas Browns’ room, + and Jimmy proposed a plan. + </p> + <p> + “We can have anything sent in that we want,” he suggested speciously, “and + if Dal doesn’t make good with the city fathers, you girls can get some + clothes anyhow. Then, we can have dinner sent from one of the hotels.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not all the meals?” Max suggested. “I hope you’re not going to be + small about things, Jimmy.” + </p> + <p> + “It ought to be easy,” Jim persisted, ignoring the remark, “for nine + reasonably intelligent people to boil eggs and make coffee, which is all + we need for breakfast, with some fruit.” + </p> + <p> + “Nine of us!” Dallas said wickedly, looking at Tom Harbison, who was out + of earshot, “Why nine of us? I thought Kit here, otherwise known as Bella, + was going to show off her housewifely skill.” + </p> + <p> + It ended, however, with Mr. Harbison writing out a lot of slips, cook, + scullery-maid, chamber-maid, parlor-maid, furnace-man, and butler, and as + that left two people over—we didn’t count Aunt Selina—he added + another furnace-man and a trained nurse. Betty Mercer drew the trained + nurse slip, and, of course, she was delighted. It seems funny now to look + back and think what a dreadful time she really had, for Aunt Selina took + the grippe, you know, that very day. + </p> + <p> + It was fate that I should go back to that awful kitchen, for of course my + slip said “cook.” Mr. Harbison was butler, and Max and Dal got the + furnace, although neither of them had ever been nearer to a bucket of coal + than the coupons on mining stock. Anne got the bedrooms, and Leila was + parlor-maid. It was Jimmy who got the scullery work, but he was quite + crushed by this time, and did not protest at all. + </p> + <p> + Max was in a very bad temper; I suppose he had not had enough sleep—no + one had. But he came over while the lottery was going on and stood over me + and demanded unpleasantly, in a whisper, that I stop masquerading as + another man’s wife and generally making a fool of myself—which is + the way he put it. And I knew in my heart that he was right, and I hated + him for it. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you go and tell him—them?” I asked nastily. No one was + paying any attention to us. “Tell them that, to be obliging, I have nearly + drowned in a sea of lies; tell them that I am not only not married, but + that I never intend to marry; tell them that we are a lot of idiots with + nothing better to do than to trifle with strangers within our gates, + people who build—I mean, people that are worth two to our one! Run + and tell them.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me for a minute, then he turned on his heel and left me. It + looked as though Max might be going to be difficult. + </p> + <p> + While I was improvising an apron out of a towel, and Anne was pinning a + sheet into a kimono, so she could take off her dinner gown and still be + proper, Dallas harked back to the robbery. + </p> + <p> + “Ann put the collar on the table there,” he said. “There’s no mistake + about that. I watched her do it, for I remember thinking it was the sole + reminder I had that Consolidated Traction ever went above thirty-nine.” + </p> + <p> + Max was looking around the room, examining the window locks and whistling + between his teeth. He was in disgrace with every one, for by that time it + was light enough to see three reporters with cameras across the street + waiting for enough sun to snap the house, and everybody knew that it was + Max and his idiotic wager that had done it. He had made two or three + conciliatory remarks, but no one would speak to him. His antics were so + queer, however, that we were all watching him, and when he had felt over + the rug with his hands, and raised the edges, and tried to lift out the + chair seats, and had shaken out Dal’s shoes (he said people often hid + things and then forgot about it), he made a proposition. + </p> + <p> + “If you will take that infernal furnace from around my neck, I’ll + undertake either to find the jewels or to show up the thief,” he said + quietly. And of course, with all the people in the house under suspicion, + every one had to hail the suggestion with joy, and to offer his + assistance, and Jimmy had to take Max’s share of the furnace. So they took + the scullery slip downstairs to the policeman, and gave Jim Max’s share of + the furnace. (Yes, I had broken the policeman to them gently. Of course, + Anne said at once that he was the thief, but they found him tucked in and + sound asleep with his back against the furnace.) + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” Max said, standing importantly in the middle of the + room, “we retired between two and three—nearer three. So the theft + occurred between three and five, when Anne woke up. Was your door locked, + Dal?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The door into the hall was, but the door into the dressing room was + open, and we found the door from there into the hall open this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “From three until five,” Max repeated. “Was any one out of his room during + that time?” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” said Tom Harbison promptly, from the foot of the bed. “I was + prowling all around somewhere about four, searching”—he glanced at + me—“for a drink of water. But as I don’t know a pearl from a glass + bead, I hope you exonerate me.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody laughed and said, “Of course,” and “Sure, old man,” and changed + the subject quickly. + </p> + <p> + While that excitement was on, I got Jim to one side and told him about + Bella. His good-natured face was radiant at first. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she DID come to see Takahiro, eh, Kit?” he asked delicately. + “She didn’t say anything about me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing good. She said the house was in a disgraceful condition,” I said + heartlessly. “And her diamond bracelet was stolen while she took a nap on + the kitchen table”—he groaned—“and—oh, Jim, you are such + a goose! If I could only manage my own affairs the way I could my + friends’! She’s too sure of you, Jimmy. She knows you adore her, and—how + brutal could you be, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “Fair,” he said. “I may have undiscovered depths of brutality that I have + never had occasion to use. However, I might try. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Jim,” I urged. “It was always Bella who did things here; she + managed the house, she tyrannized over her friends, and she bullied you. + Yes, she did. Now she’s here, without your invitation, and she has to + stay. It’s your turn to bully, to dictate terms, to be coldly civil or + politely rude. Make her furious at you. If she is jealous, so much the + better.” + </p> + <p> + “How far would you sacrifice yourself on the altar of friendship?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “You may pay me all the attention you like, in public,” I replied, and + after we shook hands we went together to Bella. + </p> + <p> + There was an ominous pause when we went into the den. Bella was sitting by + the register, with her furs on, and after one glance over her shoulder at + us, she looked away again without speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Bella,” Jim said appealingly. And then I pinched his arm, and he drew + himself up and looked properly outraged. + </p> + <p> + “Bella,” he said, coldly this time, “I can’t imagine why you have put + yourself in this ridiculous position, but since you have—” + </p> + <p> + She turned on him in a fury. + </p> + <p> + “Put MYSELF in this position!” + </p> + <p> + She was frantic. “It’s a plot, a wretched trick of yours, this quarantine, + to keep me here.” + </p> + <p> + Jim gasped, but I gave him a warning glance, and he swallowed hard. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” he said, with maddening quiet, “I would be the last + person in the world to wish to perpetuate an indiscretion of yours. For it + was hardly discreet, was it, to visit a bachelor establishment alone at + ten o’clock at night? As far as my plotting to keep you here is concerned, + I assure you that nothing could be further from my mind. Our paths were to + be two parallel lines that never touch.” He looked at me for approval, and + Bella was choking. + </p> + <p> + “You are worse that I ever thought you,” she stormed. “I thought you were + only a—a fool. Now I know you—for a brute!” + </p> + <p> + Well, it ended by Jim’s graciously permitting Bella to remain—there + being nothing else to do—and by his magnanimously agreeing to keep + her real identity from Aunt Selina and Mr. Harbison, and to break the news + of her presence to Anne and the rest. It created a sensation beside which + Anne’s pearls faded away, although they came to the front again soon + enough. + </p> + <p> + Jim broke the news at once, gathering everybody but Harbison and Aunt + Selina in the upper hall. He was palpitatingly nervous, but he tried to + carry it off with a high hand. + </p> + <p> + “It’s unfortunate,” he said, looking around the circle of faces, each one + frozen with amazement, and just a suspicion, perhaps of incredulity. “It’s + particularly unfortunate for her. You all know how high-strung she is, and + if the papers should get hold of it—well, we’ll all have to make it + as easy as we can for her.” + </p> + <p> + With Jim’s eyes on them, they all swallowed the butler story without a + gulp. But Anne was indignant. + </p> + <p> + “It’s like Bella,” she snapped. “Well, she has made her bed and she can + lie on it. I’m sure I shan’t make it for her. But if you want to know my + opinion, Mr. Harbison may be a fool, but you can’t ram two Bellas, both + NEE Knowles, down Miss Caruthers’ throat with a stick.” + </p> + <p> + We had not thought of that before and every one looked blank. Finally, + however, Jim said Bella’s middle name was Constantia, and we decided to + call her that. But it turned out afterward that nobody could remember it + in a hurry, and generally when we wanted to attract her attention, we + walked across the room and touched her on the shoulder. It was quicker and + safer. + </p> + <p> + The name decided, we went downstairs in a line to welcome Bella, to try to + make her feel at home, and to forget her deplorable situation. Leila had + worked herself into a really sympathetic frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear,” she said, on the way down. “Now don’t grin, anybody, just be + cordial and glad to see her. I hope she doesn’t cry; you know the spells + she takes.” + </p> + <p> + We stopped outside the door, and everybody tried to look cheerful and + sympathetic, and not grinny—which was as hard as looking as if we + had had a cup of tea—and then Jim threw the door open and we filed + in. + </p> + <p> + Bella was comfortably reading by the fire. She had her feet up on a stool + and a pillow behind her head. She did not even look at us for a minute; + then she merely glanced up as she turned a page. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” she said mockingly, “what a lot of frumps you all are! I had + hoped it was some one with my breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + Then she went on reading. As Leila said afterward, that kind of person + OUGHT to be divorced. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina came down just then and I left everybody trying to explain + Bella’s presence to her, and fled to the kitchen. The Harbison man + appeared while I was sitting hopelessly in front of the gas range, and + showed me about it. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that I ever saw one,” he said cheerfully, “but I know the + theory. Likewise, by the same token, this tea kettle, set on the flame, + will boil. That is not theory, however, that is early knowledge. ‘Polly, + put the kettle on; we’ll all take tea.’ Look at that, Mrs. Wilson. I + didn’t fight bacilli with boiled water at Chickamauga for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + And then he let out the policeman and brought him into the kitchen. He was + a large man, and his face was a curious mixture of amazement, alarm and + dignity. No doubt we did look queer, still in parts of our evening clothes + and I in the white silk and lace petticoat that belonged under my gown, + with a yellow and black pajama coat of Jimmy’s as a sort of breakfast + jacket. + </p> + <p> + “This is Officer Flannigan,” Mr. Harbison said. “I explained our + unfortunate position earlier in the morning, and he is prepared to accept + our hospitality. Flannigan, every person in this house has got to work, as + I also explained to you. You are appointed dishwasher and scullery maid.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman looked dazed. Then, slowly, like dawn over a sleeping lake, + a light of comprehension grew in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” he said, laying his helmet on the table. “I’ll be glad to be doing + anything I can to help. Me and Mrs. Wilson—we used to be friends. + It’s many the time I’ve opened the carriage door for her, and she with her + head in the air, and for all that, the pleasant smile. When any one around + her was having a party and wanted a special officer, it was Mrs. Wilson + that always said, Get Flannigan, Officer Timothy Flannigan. He’s your + man.’” + </p> + <p> + My heart had been going lower and lower. So he knew Bella, and he knew I + was not Bella, although he had not grasped the fact that I was usurping + her place. The odious Harbison man sat on the table and swung his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if you know,” he said, looking around him, “how good it is to + see a white woman so perfectly at home in a civilized kitchen again, after + two years of food cooked by a filthy Indian squaw over a portable + sheet-iron stove!” + </p> + <p> + SO PERFECTLY AT HOME? I stood in the middle of the room and stared around + at the copper things hanging up and the rows of blue and white crockery, + and the dozens and hundreds of complicated-looking utensils, whose names I + had never even heard, and I was dazed. I tried with some show of authority + to instruct Flannigan about gathering up the soiled things, and, after + listening in puzzled silence for a minute, he stripped off his blue coat + with a tolerant smile. + </p> + <p> + “Lave em to me, miss,” he said. The “miss” passed unnoticed. “I mayn’t + give em a Turkish bath, which is what you are describin’, but I’ll get the + grease off all right. I always clean up while the missus is in bed with a + young un.” + </p> + <p> + He rolled up his sleeves, found a brown checked gingham apron behind the + door, and tied it around his neck with the ease of practice. Then he + cleared off the plates, eating what appealed to him as he did so, and + stopping now and again for a deep-throated chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “I’m thinkin’,” he said once, stopping with a dish in the air, “what a + deuce of a noise there will be when the vaccination doctor comes around + this mornin’. In a week every one of us will be nursin’ a sore arm or + walkin’ on one leg, beggin’ your pardon, miss. The last time the force was + vaccinated, I asked to be done behind me ear; I needed me legs and I + needed me arms, but didn’t need me head much!” + </p> + <p> + He threw his head back and laughed. Mr. Harbison laughed. Oh, we were very + cheerful! And that awful stove stared at me, and the kettle began to hum, + and Aunt Selina sent down word that she was not well, and would like some + omelet on her tray. Omelet! + </p> + <p> + I knew that it was made of eggs, but that was the extent of my knowledge. + I muttered an excuse and ran upstairs to Anne, but she was still sniffling + over her necklace, and said she didn’t know anything about omelets and + didn’t care. Food would choke her. Neither of the Mercer girls knew + either, and Bella, who was still reading in the den, absolutely declined + to help. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did. You can get yourself out, + as you got yourself in,” she said nastily. “The simplest thing, if you + don’t mind my suggesting it, is to poison the coffee and kill the lot of + us. Only, if you decide to do it, let me know; I want to live just long + enough to see Jimmy Wilson WRITHE!” + </p> + <p> + Bella is the kind of person who gets on one’s nerves. She finds a + grievance and hugs it; she does ridiculous things and blames other people. + And she flirts. + </p> + <p> + I went downstairs despondently, and found that Mr. Harbison had discovered + some eggs and was standing helplessly staring at them. + </p> + <p> + “Omelet—eggs. Eggs—omelet. That’s the extent of my knowledge,” + he said, when I entered. “You’ll have to come to my assistance.” + </p> + <p> + It was then that I saw the cook book. It was lying on a shelf beside the + clock, and while Mr. Harbison had his back turned I got it down. It was + quite clear that the domestic type of woman was his ideal, and I did not + care to outrage his belief in me. So I took the cook book into the pantry + and read the recipe over three times. When I came back I knew it by heart, + although I did not understand it. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you how,” I said with a great deal of dignity, “and since you + want to help, you may make it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + He was delighted. + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” he said. “Suppose you give me the idea first. Then we’ll go over + it slowly, bit by bit. We’ll make a big fluffy omelet, and if the others + aren’t around, we’ll eat it ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, trying to remember exactly, “you take two eggs—” + </p> + <p> + “Two!” he repeated. “Two eggs for ten people!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t interrupt me,” I said irritably. “If—if two isn’t enough we + can make several omelets, one after the other.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Who else but you would have thought of that!” he remarked. “Well, here + are two eggs. What next?” + </p> + <p> + “Separate them,” I said easily. No, I didn’t know what it meant. I hoped + he would; I said it as casually as I could, and I did not look at him. I + knew he was staring at me, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Separate them!” he said. “Why, they aren’t fastened together!” Then he + laughed. “Oh, yes, of course!” When I looked he had put one at each end of + the table. “Afraid they’ll quarrel, I suppose,” he said. “Well, now + they’re separated.” + </p> + <p> + “Then beat.” + </p> + <p> + “First separate, then beat!” he repeated. “The author of that cook book + must have had a mean disposition. What’s next? Hang them?” He looked up at + me with his boyish smile. + </p> + <p> + “Separate and beat,” I repeated. If I lost a word of that recipe I was + gone. It was like saying the alphabet; I had to go to the beginning every + time mentally. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he reflected, “you can’t beat an egg, no matter how cruel you may + be, unless you break it first.” He picked up an egg and looked at it. + “Separate!” he reflected. “Ah—the white from the—whatever you + cooking experts call it—the yellow part.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” I exclaimed, light breaking on me. “Of course. I KNEW you would + find it out.” Then back to the recipe—“beat until well mixed; then + fold in the whites.” + </p> + <p> + “Fold?” he questioned. “It looks pretty thin to fold, doesn’t it? I—upon + my word, I never heard of folding an egg. Are you—but of course you + know. Please come and show me how.” + </p> + <p> + “Just fold them in,” I said desperately. “It isn’t difficult.” And because + I was so transparent a fraud and knew he must find me out then, I said + something about butter, and went into the pantry. That’s the trouble with + a lie; somebody asks you to tell one as a favor to somebody else, and the + first thing you know, you are having to tell a thousand, and trying to + remember the ones you have told so you won’t contradict yourself, and the + very person you have tried to help turns on you and reproaches you for + being untruthful! I leaned my elbows despondently on the shelf of the + kitchen pantry, with the feet of a guard visible through the high window + over my head, and waited for Mr. Harbison to come in and demand that I + fold a raw egg, and discover that I didn’t know anything about cooking, + and was just as useless as all the others. + </p> + <p> + He came. He held the bowl out to me and waved a fork in triumph. + </p> + <p> + “I have solved it,” he said. “Or, rather, Flannigan and I have solved it. + The mixture awaits the magic touch of the cook.” + </p> + <p> + I honestly thought I could do the rest. It was only to be put in a pan and + browned, and then in the oven three minutes. And I did it properly, but + for two things: I should have greased the pan (but this was the book’s + fault; it didn’t say) and I should have lighted the oven. The latter, + however, was Mr. Harbison’s fault as much as mine, and I had wit enough to + lay it to absent-mindedness on the part of both of us. + </p> + <p> + After that, Aunt Selina or no Aunt Selina, we decided to have boiled eggs, + and Mr. Harbison knew how to cook them. He put them in the tea kettle and + then went to look at the furnace. And Officer Timothy Flannigan ground the + coffee and gave his opinion of the board of health in no stinted terms. As + for me, I burned my fingers and the toast, and felt myself growing hot and + cold, for I was going to be found out as soon as Flannigan grasped the + situation. + </p> + <p> + Then, of course, I did the thing that caused me so much trouble later. I + put down the toaster—at least the Harbison man said it was a toaster—and + went over and stood in front of the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t suppose you will understand—exactly,” I said, “but—but + if anything occurs to—to make you think I am not—that things + are not what they seem to be—I mean, what I say they are—you + will understand that it is a joke, won’t you? A joke, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, that was what I said. I know it sounds like a raving delirium, but + when Max came down and squizzled some bacon, as he said, and told + Flannigan about the robbery, and how, whether it was a joke or deadly + earnest, somebody in the house had taken Anne’s pearls, that wretched + policeman winked at me solemnly over Max’s shoulder. Oh, it was awful! + </p> + <p> + And, to add to my discomfort, the most unpleasant ideas WOULD obtrude + themselves. WHAT was Mr. Harbison doing on the first floor of the house + that night? Ice water, he had said. But there had been plenty of water in + the studio! And he had told me it was the furnace. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison came back in a half hour, and I remembered the eggs. We + fished them out of the tea kettle, and they were perfectly hard, but we + ate them. + </p> + <p> + The doctor from the board of health came that morning and vaccinated us. + There was a great deal of excitement, and Aunt Selina was done on the arm. + As she did not affect evening clothes this was entirely natural, but later + on in the week, when the wretched things began to take, nobody dared to + limp, and Leila made a terrible break by wearing a bandage on her left + arm, after telling Aunt Selina that she had been vaccinated on the right. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter VIII. CORRESPONDENTS’ DEPARTMENT + </h2> + <p> + The following letters were found in the house post box after the lifting + of the quarantine, and later were presented to me by their writers, bound + in white kid (the letters, not the authors, of course). + </p> + <p> + FROM THOMAS HARBISON, LATE ENGINEER OF BRIDGES, PERUVIAN TRUNK LINES, + SOUTH AMERICA, TO HENRY LLEWELLYN, CARE OF UNION NITRATE COMPANY, IQUIQUE, + CHILI. + </p> + <p> + Dear Old Man: + </p> + <p> + I think I was fully a week trying to drive out of my mind my last glimpse + of you with your sickly grin, pretending to be tickled to pieces that the + only white man within two hundred miles of your shack was going on a + holiday. You old bluffer! I used to hang over the rail of the steamer, on + the way up, and see you standing as I left you beside the car with its + mule and the Indian driver, and behind you a million miles of + soul-destroying pampa. Never mind, Jack; I sent yesterday by mail steamer + the cigarettes, pipes and tobacco, canned goods and poker chips. Put in + some magazines, too, and the collars. Don’t know about the ties—guess + it won’t matter down there. + </p> + <p> + Nothing happened on the trip. One of the engines broke down three days + out, and I spent all my time below decks for forty-eight hours. Chief + engineer raving with D.T.‘s. Got the engine fixed in record time, and + haven’t got my hands clean yet. It was bully. + </p> + <p> + With this I send the papers, which will tell you how I happen to be here, + and why I have leisure to write you three days after landing. If the + situation were not so ridiculous, it would be maddening. Here I am, off + for a holiday and congratulating myself that I am foot free and heart free—yes, + my friend, heart free—here I am, shut in the house of a man I never + saw until last night, and wouldn’t care if I never saw again, with a lot + of people who never heard of me, who are almost equally vague about South + America, who play as hard at bridge as I ever worked at building one + (forgive this, won’t you? The novelty has gone to my head), and who belong + to the very class of extravagant, luxury-loving, non-producing parasites + (isn’t that what we called them?) that you and I used to revile from our + lofty Andean pinnacle. + </p> + <p> + To come down to earth: here we are, six women and five men, including a + policeman, not a servant in the house, and no one who knows how to do + anything. They are really immensely interesting, these people; they all + know each other very well, and it is “Jimmy” here, and “Dal” there—Dallas + Brown, who went to India with me, you remember my speaking of him—and + they are good natured, too, except at meal times. The little hostess, Mrs. + Wilson, took over the cooking, and although luncheon was better than + breakfast, the food still leaves much to the imagination. + </p> + <p> + I wish you could see this Mrs. Wilson, Hal. You would change a whole lot + of your ideas. She is a thoroughbred, sure enough, and of course some of + her beauty is the result of the exquisite care about which you and I—still + from our Andean pinnacle—used to rant. But the fact is, she is more + than that. She has fire, and pluck, no end. If you could have seen her + this morning, standing in front of a cold kitchen range, determined to + conquer it, and had seen the tilt of her chin when I offered to take over + the cooking—you needn’t grin; I can cook, and you know it—you + would understand what I mean. It was so clear that she was paralyzed with + fright at the idea of getting breakfast, and equally clear that she meant + to do it. By the way, I have learned that her name was McNair before she + married this would-be artist, Wilson, and that she is a daughter of the + McNair who financed the Callao branch! + </p> + <p> + I have not met the others so intimately. There are two sisters named + Mercer, inclined to be noisy—they are playing roulette in the next + room now. One is small and dark, almost Hebraic in type, named Leila and + called Lollie. The other, larger, very blonde and languishing, and with a + decided preference for masculine society, even, saving the mark, mine! + Dallas Brown’s wife, good looking, smokes cigarettes when I am not around—they + all do, except Mrs. Wilson. + </p> + <p> + Then there is a maiden aunt, who is ill today with grippe and excitement, + and a Miss Knowles, who came for a moment last night to see Mrs. Wilson, + was caught in the quarantine (see papers), and, after hiding all night in + the basement, is sulking all day in her room. Her presence created an + excitement out of all proportion to the apparent cause. + </p> + <p> + From the fact that I have reason to know that my artist host and his + beautiful wife are on bad terms, and from the significant glances with + which the announcement of Miss Knowles’ presence was met, the state of + affairs seems rather clear. Wilson impresses me as a spineless sort, + anyhow, and when the lady of the basement shut herself away from the rest + today and I happened on “Jimmy,” as they call him, pleading with her + through the door, I very nearly kicked him down the stairs. Oh, yes, I’ll + keep out, right enough; it isn’t my affair. + </p> + <p> + By the way, after the quarantine and with the policeman locked in the + furnace room, a pearl necklace and a diamond bracelet were stolen! Just + ten of us to divide the suspicion! Upon my word, Hal, it’s the queerest + situation I ever heard of. Which of us did it? I make a guess that not a + few of us are fools, but which is the knave? The worst of it is, I am the + only unaccredited member of the household! + </p> + <p> + This is more scandal than I ever wrote in my life. Lay it to circumscribed + environment, and the lack of twenty miles over the pampa before breakfast. + We have all been vaccinated, and the officious gentlemen from the board of + health have taken their grins and their formaldehyde and gone. Ye gods, + how we cough! + </p> + <p> + The Carlton order will go through all right, I think. Phoned him this + morning. If it does, old man, we will take a month in September and + explore the Mercator property. + </p> + <p> + Do you know, Hal, I have been thinking lately that you and I stick too + close to the grind. Business is right enough, but what’s the use of + spending one’s best years succeeding in everything except the things that + are worth while? I’ll be thirty sooner than I care to say, and—oh, + well, you won’t understand. You’ll sit down there, with the Southern Cross + and the rest of the infernal astronomical galaxy looking down on you, and + the Indians chanting in the village, and you will think I have grown + sentimental. I have not. You and I down there have been looking at the + world through the reverse end of the glass. It’s a bully old world, Hal, + and this is God’s part of it. + </p> + <p> + Burn this letter after you read it; I suspect it is covered with germs. + Well, happy days, old man. + </p> + <p> + Yours, Tom + </p> + <p> + P.S. By the way, can’t you spare some of the Indian pottery you picked up + at Callao? I told Mrs. Wilson about it, and she was immensely interested. + Send it to this address. Can you get it to the next steamer?—T. + </p> + <p> + FROM MAXWELL REED TO RICHARD BURTON BAGLEY, UNIVERSITY CLUB, NEW YORK. + </p> + <p> + Dear Dick: + </p> + <p> + Enclosed find my check for five hundred, as per wager. Possibly you were + within your rights in protecting your bet in the manner you chose, but + while I do not wish to be offensive, your reporters are damnably so. + </p> + <p> + Yours, Maxwell Reed + </p> + <p> + FROM OFFICER FLANNIGAN TO MRS. MAGGIE FLANNIGAN, ERIN STREET. + </p> + <p> + Dear Maggie: + </p> + <p> + As soon as you receive this, go down to Mac and tell him the story as I + tell you hear. Tell him I was walkin my beat, and I’d been afther seein + Jimmy Alverini about doin the right thing for Mac on Monday, at the poles, + when I seen a man hangin suspicious around this house, which is Mr. + Wilson’s, on Ninety-fifth. And, of coorse, afther chasin the man a mile or + more, I lose him, which was not my fault. So I go back to the Wilson + house, and tell them to be careful about closin up fer the night, and + while I’m standin in the hall, with all the swells around me, sparklin + with jewels, the board of health sends a man to lock us all in, because + the Jap thats been waiter has took the smallpox and gone to the hospitle. + I stood me ground. I sez, sez I, you cant shtop an officer in pursute of + his duty. I rafuse to be shut in. Be shure to tell Mac that. + </p> + <p> + So here I am, and like to be for a month. Tell Mac theres four votes shut + up here, and I can get them for him, if he can stop this monkey business. + </p> + <p> + Then go over to the Dago Church on Webster Avenue and put a dollar in + Saint Anthony’s box. He’ll see me out of this scrape, right enough. Do it + at once. Now remember, go to Mac first; maybe you can get the dollar from + him, and mind what you tell him. + </p> + <p> + Your husband, Tim Flannigan + </p> + <p> + FROM ME TO MOTHER—MRS. THEODORE McNAIR, HOTEL HAMILTON, BERMUDA. + </p> + <p> + Dearest Mother: + </p> + <p> + I hope you will get this before you read the papers, and when you DO read + them, you are not to get excited and worried. I am as well as can be, and + a great deal safer than I ever remember to have been in my life. We are + quarantined, a lot of us, in Jim Wilson’s house, because his + irreproachable Jap did a very reproachable thing—took smallpox. Now + read on before you get excited. HIS ROOM HAS BEEN FUMIGATED, and we have + been vaccinated. I am well and happy. I can’t be killed in a railway wreck + or smashed when the car skids. Unless I drown myself in my bath, or jump + through a window, positively nothing can happen to me. So gather up all + your maternal anxieties and cast them to the Bermuda sharks. + </p> + <p> + Anne Brown is here—see the papers for list—and if she can not + play propriety, Jimmy’s Aunt Selina can. In fact, she doesn’t play at it; + she works. I have telephoned Lizette for some clothes—enough for a + couple of weeks, although Dallas promises to get us out sooner. Now, dear, + do go ahead and have a nice time, and on no account come home. You could + only have the carriage to stop in front of the house, and wave to me + through a window. + </p> + <p> + Mother, I want you to do something for me. You know who is down there, and—this + is awfully delicate, Mumsy—but he’s a nice boy, and I thought I + liked him. I guess you know he has been rather attentive. Now, I DO like + him, Mumsy, but not the way I thought I did, and I want you to—very + gently, of course—to discourage him a little. You know how I mean. + He’s a dear boy, but I am so tired of people who don’t know anything but + horses and motors. + </p> + <p> + And, oh, yes,—do you remember a girl named Lucille Mellon who was at + school with you in Rome? And that she married a man named Harbison? Well, + her son is here! He builds railroads and bridges and things, and he even + built himself an automobile down in South America, because he couldn’t + afford to buy one, and burned wood in it! Wood! Think of it! + </p> + <p> + I wired father in Chicago for fear he would come rushing home. The picture + in the paper of the face at the basement window is supposed to be Mr. + Harbison, but of course it isn’t any more like him than mine is like me. + </p> + <p> + Anne Brown mislaid her pearl collar when she took it off last night, and + has fussed herself into a sick headache. She declares it was stolen! Some + of the people are playing bridge, Betty Mercer is doing a cake walk to the + RHAPSODIE HONGROISE—Jim has no every-day music—and the + telephone is ringing. We have received enough flowers for a funeral—somebody + sent Lollie a Gates Ajar, only with the gates shut. + </p> + <p> + There are no servants—think of it, Mumsy. I wish you had made me + learn to cook. Mr. Harbison has shown me a little—he was a soldier + in the Spanish War—but we girls are a terribly ignorant lot, Mumsy, + about the real things of life. + </p> + <p> + Now, don’t worry. It is more sport than camping in the Adirondacks, and + not nearly so damp. + </p> + <p> + Your loving daughter, Katherine. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—South America must be wonderful. Why can’t we put the Gadfly in + commission, and take a coasting trip this summer? It is a shame to own a + yacht and never use it. K. + </p> + <p> + THIS NOTE, EVIDENTLY DELIVERED BY MESSENGER, WAS FOUND AMONG OTHER LITTER + IN THE VESTIBULE AFTER THE LIFTING OF THE QUARANTINE. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Alex Dodds, City Editor, Mail and Star: + </p> + <p> + Dear D.—Can’t get a picture. Have waited seven hours. They have + closed the shutters. + </p> + <p> + McCord. + </p> + <p> + WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE ABOVE NOTE. + </p> + <p> + Watch the roof. + </p> + <p> + Dodds. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter IX. FLANNIGAN’S FIND + </h2> + <p> + The most charitable thing would be to say nothing about the first day. We + were baldly brutal—that’s the only word for it. And Mr. Harbison, + with his beautiful courtesy—the really sincere kind—tried to + patch up one quarrel after another and failed. He rose superbly to the + occasion, and made something that he called a South American goulash for + luncheon, although it was too salty, and every one was thirsty the rest of + the day. + </p> + <p> + Bella was horrid, of course. She froze Jim until he said he was going to + sit in the refrigerator and cool the butter. She locked herself in the + dressing room—it had been assigned to me, but that made no + difference to Bella—and did her nails, and took three different + baths, and refused to come to the table. And of course Jimmy was wild, and + said she would starve. But I said, “Very well, let her starve. Not a tray + shall leave my kitchen.” It was a comfort to have her shut up there + anyhow; it postponed the time when she would come face to face with + Flannigan. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina got sick that day, as I have said. I was not so bitter as the + others; I did not say that I wished she would die. The worst I ever wished + her was that she might be quite ill for some time, and yet, when she began + to recover, she was dreadful to me. She said for one thing, that it was + the hard-boiled eggs and the state of the house that did it, and when I + said that the grippe was a germ, she retorted that I had probably brought + it to her on my clothing. + </p> + <p> + You remember that Betty had drawn the nurse’s slip, and how pleased she + had been about it. She got up early the morning of the first day and made + herself a lawn cap and telephoned out for a white nurse’s uniform—that + is, of course, for a white uniform for a nurse. She really looked very + fetching, and she went around all the morning with a red cross on her + sleeve and a Saint Cecilia expression, gathering up bottles of medicine—most + of it flesh reducer, which was pathetic, and closing windows for fear of + drafts. She refused to help with the house work, and looked quite exalted, + but by afternoon it had palled on her somewhat, and she and Max shook + dice. + </p> + <p> + Betty was really pleased when Aunt Selina sent for her. She took in a + bottle of cologne to bathe her brow, and we all stood outside the door and + listened. Betty tiptoed in in her pretty cap and apron, and we heard her + cautiously draw down the shades. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing that for?” Aunt Selina demanded. “I like the light.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s bad for your poor eyes,” Betty’s tone was exactly the proper bedside + pitch, low and sugary. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet and low, sweet and low, wind of the western sea!” Dal hummed + outside. + </p> + <p> + “Put up those window shades!” Aunt Selina’s voice was strong enough. + “What’s in that bottle?” + </p> + <p> + Betty was still mild. She swished to the window and raised the shade. + </p> + <p> + “I’m SO sorry you are ill,” she said sympathetically. “This is for your + poor aching head. Now close your eyes and lie perfectly still, and I will + cool your forehead.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing the matter with my head,” Aunt Selina retorted. “And I + have not lost my faculties; I am not a child or a sick cow. If that’s + perfumery, take it out.” + </p> + <p> + We heard Betty coming to the door, but there was no time to get away. She + had dropped her mask for a minute and was biting her lip, but when she saw + us she forced a smile. + </p> + <p> + “She’s ill, poor dear,” she said. “If you people will go away, I can bring + her around all right. In two hours she will eat out of my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Eat a piece out of your hand,” Max scoffed in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + We waited a little longer, but it was too painful. Aunt Selina demanded a + mustard foot bath and a hot lemonade and her back rubbed with liniment and + some strong black tea. And in the intervals she wanted to be read to out + of the prayer book. And when we had all gone away, there came the most + terrible noise from Aunt Selina’s room, and every one ran. We found Betty + in the hall outside the door, crying, with her fingers in her ears and her + cap over her eye. She said she had been putting the hot water bottle to + Aunt Selina’s back, and it had been too hot. Just then something hit + against the door with a soft thud, fell to the floor and burst, for a + trickle of hot water came over the sill. + </p> + <p> + “She won’t let me hold her hand,” Betty wailed, “or bathe her brow, or + smooth her pillow. She thinks of nothing but her stomach or her back! And + when I try to make her bed look decent, she spits at me like a cat. + Everything I do is wrong. She spilled the foot bath into her shoes, and + blamed me for it.” + </p> + <p> + It took the united efforts of all of us—except Bella, who stood back + and smiled nastily—to get Betty back into the sick room again. I was + supremely thankful by that time that I had not drawn the nurse’s slip. + With dinner ordered in from one of the clubs, and the omelet ten hours + behind me, my position did not seem so unbearable. But a new development + was coming. + </p> + <p> + While Betty was fussing with Aunt Selina, Max led a search of the house. + He said the necklace and the bracelet must be hidden somewhere, and that + no crevice was too small to neglect. + </p> + <p> + We made a formal search all together, except Betty and Aunt Selina, and we + found a lot of things in different places that Jim said had been missing + since the year one. But no jewels—nothing even suggesting a jewel + was found. We had explored the entire house, every cupboard, every chest, + even the insides of the couches and the pockets of Jim’s clothes—which + he resented bitterly—and found nothing, and I must say the situation + was growing rather strained. Some one had taken the jewels; they hadn’t + walked away. + </p> + <p> + It was Flannigan who suggested the roof, and as we had tried every place + else, we climbed there. Of course we didn’t find anything, but after all + day in the house with the shutters closed on account of reporters, the air + was glorious. It was February, but quite mild and sunny, and we could look + down over Riverside Drive and the Hudson, and even recognize people we + knew on horseback and in cars. It was a pathetic joy, and we lined up + along the parapet and watched the motor boats racing on the river, and + tried to feel that we were in the world as well as of it, but it was very + hard. + </p> + <p> + Betty had been making tea for Aunt Selina, and of course when she heard us + up there, she followed, tray and all, and we drank Aunt Selina’s tea and + had the first really nice time of the day. Bella had come up, too, but she + was still standoffish and queer, and she stood leaning against a chimney + and staring out over the river. After a little Mr. Harbison put down his + cup and went over to her, and they talked quite confidentially for a long + time. I thought it bad taste in Bella, under the circumstances, after + snubbing Dallas and Max, and of course treating Jim like the dirt under + her feet, to turn right around and be lovely to Mr. Harbison. It was hard + for Jim. + </p> + <p> + Max came and sat beside me, and Flannigan, who had been sent down for more + cups, passed tea, putting the tray on top of the chimney. Jim was sitting + grumpily on the roof, with his feet folded under him, playing Canfield in + the shadow of the parapet, buying the deck out of one pocket and putting + his winnings in the other. He was watching Bella, too, and she knew it, + and she strained a point to captivate Mr. Harbison. Any one could see + that. + </p> + <p> + And that was the picture that came out in the next morning’s papers, tea + cups, cards and all. For when some one looked up, there were four + newspaper photographers on the roof of the next house, and they had the + impertinence to thank us! + </p> + <p> + Flannigan had seen Bella by that time, but as he still didn’t understand + the situation, things were just the same. But his manner to me puzzled me; + whenever he came near me he winked prodigiously, and during all the search + he kept one eye on me, and seemed to be amused about something. + </p> + <p> + When the rest had gone down to dress for dinner, which was being sent in, + thank goodness, I still sat on the parapet and watched the darkening + river. I felt terribly lonely, all at once, and sad. There wasn’t any one + any nearer than father, in the West, or mother in Bermuda, who really + cared a rap whether I sat on that parapet all night or not, or who would + be sorry if I leaped to the dirty bricks of the next door-yard—not + that I meant to, of course. + </p> + <p> + The lights came out across the river, and made purple and yellow streaks + on the water, and one of the motor boats came panting back to the yacht + club, coughing and gasping as if it had overdone. Down on the street + automobiles were starting and stopping, cabs rolling, doors slamming, all + the maddening, delightful bustle of people who are foot-free to dine out, + to dance, to go to the theater, to do any of the thousand possibilities of + a long February evening. And above them I sat on the roof and cried. Yes, + cried. + </p> + <p> + I was roused by some one coughing just behind me, and I tried to + straighten my face before I turned. It was Flannigan, his double row of + brass buttons gleaming in the twilight. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, miss,” he said affably, “but the boy from the hotel has left + the dinner on the doorstep and run, the cowardly little divil! What’ll I + do with it? I went to Mrs. Wilson, but she says it’s no concern of hers.” + Flannigan was evidently bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “You’d better keep it warm, Flannigan,” I replied. “You needn’t wait; I’m + coming.” But he did not go. + </p> + <p> + “If—if you’ll excuse me, miss,” he said, “don’t you think ye’d + betther tell them?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell them what?” + </p> + <p> + “The whole thing—the joke,” he said confidentially, coming closer. + “It’s been great sport, now, hasn’t it? But I’m afraid they will get on to + it soon, and—some of them might not be agreeable. A pearl necklace + is a pearl necklace, miss, and the lady’s wild.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” I gasped. “You don’t think—why, Flannigan—” + </p> + <p> + He merely grinned at me and thrust his hand down in his pocket. When he + brought it up he had Bella’s bracelet on his palm, glittering in the faint + light. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get it?” Between relief and the absurdity of the thing, I + was almost hysterical. But Flannigan did not give me the bracelet; + instead, it struck me his tone was suddenly severe. + </p> + <p> + “Now look here, miss,” he said; “you’ve played your trick, and you’ve had + your fun. The Lord knows it’s only folks like you would play April fool + jokes with a fortune! If you’re the sinsible little woman you look to be, + you’ll put that pearl collar on the coal in the basement tonight, and let + me find it.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t got the pearl collar,” I protested. “I think you are crazy. + Where did you get that bracelet?” + </p> + <p> + He edged away from me, as if he expected me to snatch it from him and run, + but he was still trying in an elephantine way to treat the matter as a + joke. + </p> + <p> + “I found it in a drawer in the pantry,” he said, “among the dirty linen. + And if you’re as smart as I think you are, I’ll find the pearl collar + there in the morning—and nothing said, miss.” + </p> + <p> + So there I was, suspected of being responsible for Anne’s pearl collar, as + if I had not enough to worry me before. Of course I could have called them + all together and told them, and made them explain to Flannigan what I had + really meant by my delirious speech in the kitchen. But that would have + meant telling the whole ridiculous story to Mr. Harbison, and having him + think us all mad, and me a fool. + </p> + <p> + In all that overcrowded house there was only one place where I could be + miserable with comfort. So I stayed on the roof, and cried a little and + then became angry and walked up and down, and clenched my hands and + babbled helplessly. The boats on the river were yellow, horizontal streaks + through my tears, and an early searchlight sent its shaft like a tangible + thing in the darkness, just over my head. Then, finally, I curled down in + a corner with my arms on the parapet, and the lights became more and more + prismatic and finally formed themselves into a circle that was Bella’s + bracelet, and that kept whirling around and around on something flat and + not over-clean, that was Flannigan’s palm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter X. ON THE STAIRS + </h2> + <p> + I was roused by someone walking across the roof, the cracking of tin under + feet, and a comfortable and companionable odor of tobacco. I moved a very + little, and then I saw that it was a man—the height and erectness + told me which man. And just at that instant he saw me. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he ejaculated, and throwing his cigar away he came across + quickly. “Why, Mrs. Wilson, what in the world are you doing here? I + thought—they said—” + </p> + <p> + “That I was sulking again?” I finished disagreeably. “Perhaps I am. In + fact, I’m quite sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not,” he said severely. “You have been asleep in a February + night, in the open air, with less clothing on than I wear in the tropics.” + </p> + <p> + I had got up by this time, refusing his help, and because my feet were + numb, I sat down on the parapet for a moment. Oh, I knew what I looked + like—one of those “Valley-of-the-Nile-After-a-Flood” pictures. + </p> + <p> + “There is one thing about you that is comforting,” I sniffed. “You said + precisely the same thing to me at three o’clock this morning. You never + startle me by saying anything unexpected.” + </p> + <p> + He took a step toward me, and even in the dusk I could see that he was + looking down at me oddly. All my bravado faded away and there was a + queerish ringing in my ears. + </p> + <p> + “I would like to!” he said tensely. “I would like, this minute—I’m a + fool, Mrs. Wilson,” he finished miserably. “I ought to be drawn and + quartered, but when I see you like this I—I get crazy. If you say + the word, I’ll—I’ll go down and—” He clenched his fist. + </p> + <p> + It was reprehensible, of course; he saw that in an instant, for he shut + his teeth over something that sounded very fierce, and strode away from + me, to stand looking out over the river, with his hands thrust in his + pockets. Of course the thing I should have done was to ignore what he had + said altogether, but he was so uncomfortable, so chastened, that, feline, + feminine, whatever the instinct is, I could not let him go. I had been so + wretched myself. + </p> + <p> + “What is it you would like to say?” I called over to him. He did not + speak. “Would you tell me that I am a silly child for pouting?” No reply; + he struck a match. “Or would you preach a nice little sermon about people—about + women—loving their husbands?” + </p> + <p> + He grunted savagely under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Be quite honest,” I pursued relentlessly. “Say that we are a lot of + barbarians, say that because my—because Jimmy treats me outrageously—oh, + he does; any one can see that—and because I loathe him—and any + one can tell that—why don’t you say you are shocked to the depths?” + I was a little shocked myself by that time, but I couldn’t stop, having + started. + </p> + <p> + He came over to me, white-faced and towering, and he had the audacity to + grip my arm and stand me on my feet, like a bad child—which I was, I + dare say. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t!” he said in a husky, very pained voice. “You are only talking; you + don’t mean it. It isn’t YOU. You know you care, or else why are you crying + up here? And don’t do it again, DON’T DO IT AGAIN—or I will—” + </p> + <p> + “You will—what?” + </p> + <p> + “Make a fool of myself, as I have now,” he finished grimly. And then he + stalked away and left me there alone, completely bewildered, to find my + way down in the dark. + </p> + <p> + I groped along, holding to the rail, for the staircase to the roof was + very steep, and I went slowly. Half-way down the stairs there was a tiny + landing, and I stopped. I could have sworn I heard Mr. Harbison’s + footsteps far below, growing fainter. I even smiled a little, there in the + dark, although I had been rather profoundly shaken. The next instant I + knew I had been wrong; some one was on the landing with me. I could hear + short, sharp breathing, and then— + </p> + <p> + I am not sure that I struggled; in fact, I don’t believe I did—I was + too limp with amazement. The creature, to have lain in wait for me like + that! And he was brutally strong; he caught me to him fiercely, and held + me there, close, and he kissed me—not once or twice, but half a + dozen times, long kisses that filled me with hot shame for him, for + myself, that I had—liked him. The roughness of his coat bruised my + cheek; I loathed him. And then someone came whistling along the hall + below, and he pushed me from him and stood listening, breathing in long, + gasping breaths. + </p> + <p> + I ran; when my shaky knees would hold me, I ran. I wanted to hide my hot + face, my disgust, my disillusion; I wanted to put my head in mother’s lap + and cry; I wanted to die, or be ill, so I need never see him again. + Perversely enough, I did none of those things. With my face still flaming, + with burning eyes and hands that shook, I made a belated evening toilet + and went slowly, haughtily, down the stairs. My hands were like ice, but I + was consumed with rage. Oh, I would show him—that this was New York, + not Iquique; that the roof was not his Andean tableland. + </p> + <p> + Every one elaborately ignored my absence from dinner. The Dallas Browns, + Max and Lollie were at bridge; Jim was alone in the den, walking the floor + and biting at an unlighted cigar; Betty had returned to Aunt Selina and + was hysterical, they said, and Flannigan was in deep dejection because I + had missed my dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Betty is making no end of a row,” Max said, looking up from his game, + “because the old lady upstairs insists on chloroform liniment. Betty says + the smell makes her ill.” + </p> + <p> + “And she can inhale Russian cigarettes,” Anne said enviously, “and + gasolene fumes, without turning a hair. I call a revoke, Dal; you trumped + spades on the second round.” + </p> + <p> + Dal flung over three tricks with very bad grace, and Anne counted them + with maddening deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “Game and rubber,” she said. “Watch Dal, Max; he will cheat in the score + if he can. Kit, don’t have another clam while I am in this house. I have + eaten so many lately my waist rises and falls with the tide.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a stunning color, Kit,” Lollie said. “You are really quite + superb. Who made that gown?” + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been hiding, du kleine?” Max whispered, under cover of + showing me the evening paper, with a photograph of the house and a cross + at the cellar window where we had tried to escape. “If one day in the + house with you, Kit, puts me in this condition, what will a month do?” + </p> + <p> + From beyond the curtain of a sort of alcove, lighted with a red-shaded + lamp, came a hum of conversation, Bella’s cool, even tones, and a heavy + masculine voice. They were laughing; I could feel my chin go up. He was + not even hiding his shame. + </p> + <p> + “Max,” I asked, while the others clamored for him and the game, “has any + one been up through the house since dinner? Any of the men?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Only Harbison,” he replied promptly. “Jim has been eating his heart out + in the den every since dinner; Dal played the Sonata Appasionata backward + on the pianola—he wanted to put through one of Anne’s lingerie + waists, on a wager that it would play a tune; I played craps with Lollie, + and Flannigan has been washing dishes. Why?” + </p> + <p> + Well, that was conclusive, anyhow. I had had a faint hope that it might + have been a joke, although it had borne all the evidences of sincerity, + certainly. But it was past doubting now; he had lain in wait for me at the + landing, and had kissed me, ME, when he thought I was Jimmy’s wife. Oh, I + must have been very light, very contemptible, if that was what he thought + of me! + </p> + <p> + I went into the library and got a book, but it was impossible to read, + with Jimmy lying on the couch giving vent to something between a sigh and + a groan every few minutes. About eleven the cards stopped, and Bella said + she would read palms. She began with Mr. Harbison, because she declared he + had a wonderful hand, full of possibilities; she said he should have been + a great inventor or a playwright, and that his attitude to women was one + of homage, respect, almost reverence. He had the courage to look at me, + and if a glance could have killed he would have withered away. + </p> + <p> + When Jimmy proffered his hand, she looked at it icily. Of course she could + not refuse, with Mr. Harbison looking on. + </p> + <p> + “Rather negative,” she said coldly. “The lines are obscured by cushions of + flesh; no heart line at all, mentality small, self-indulgence and + irritability very marked.” + </p> + <p> + Jim held his palm up to the light and stared at it. + </p> + <p> + “Gad!” he said. “Hardly safe for me to go around without gloves, is it?” + </p> + <p> + It was all well enough for Jim to laugh, but he was horribly hurt. He + stood around for a few minutes, talking to Anne, but as soon as he could + he slid away and went to bed. He looked very badly the next morning, as + though he had not slept, and his clothes quite hung on him. He was + actually thinner. But that is ahead of the story. + </p> + <p> + Max came to me while the others were sitting around drinking nightcaps, + and asked me in a low tone if he could see me in the den; he wanted to ask + me something. Dal overheard. + </p> + <p> + “Ask her here,” he said. “We all know what it is, Max. Go ahead and we’ll + coach you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you coach ME?” I asked, for Mr. Harbison was listening. + </p> + <p> + “The woman does not need it,” Dal retorted. And then, because Max looked + angry enough really to propose to me right there, I got up hastily and + went into the den. Max followed, and closing the door, stood with his back + against it. + </p> + <p> + “Contrary to the general belief, Kit,” he began, “I did NOT intend to ask + you to marry me.” + </p> + <p> + I breathed easier. He took a couple of steps toward me and stood with his + arms folded, looking down at me. “I’m not at all sure, in fact, that I + shall ever propose to you,” he went on unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “You have already done it twice. You are not going to take those back, are + you, Max?” I asked, looking up at him. + </p> + <p> + But Max was not to be cajoled. He came close and stood with his hand on + the back of my chair. “What happened on the roof tonight?” He demanded + hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think it would interest you,” I retorted, coloring in spite of + myself. + </p> + <p> + “Not interest me! I am shut in this blasted house; I have to see the only + woman I ever loved—REALLY loved,” he supplemented, as he caught my + eye, “pretend she is another man’s wife. Then I sit back and watch her + using every art—all her beauty—to make still another man love + her, a man who thinks she is a married woman. If Harbison were worth the + trouble, I would tell him the whole story, Aunt Selina be—obliterated!” + </p> + <p> + I sat up suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “If Harbison were worth the trouble!” I repeated. What did he mean? Had he + seen— + </p> + <p> + “I mean just this,” Max said slowly. “There is only one unaccredited + member of this household; only one person, save Flannigan, who was locked + in the furnace room, one person who was awake and around the house when + Anne’s jewels went, only one person in the house, also, who would have any + motive for the theft.” + </p> + <p> + “Motive?” I asked dully. + </p> + <p> + “Poverty,” Max threw at me. “Oh, I mean comparative poverty, of course. + Who is this fellow, anyhow? Dal knew him at school, traveled with him + through India. On the strength of that he brings him here, quarters him + with decent people, and wonders when they are systematically robbed!” + </p> + <p> + “You are unjust!” I said, rising and facing him. “I do not like Mr. + Harbison—I—I hate him, if you want to know. But as to his + being a thief, I—think it is quite as likely that you took the + necklace.” + </p> + <p> + Max threw his cigarette into the fire angrily. + </p> + <p> + “So that is how it is!” he mocked. “If either of us is the thief, it is I! + You DO hate him, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + I left him there, flushed with irritation, and joined the others. Just as + I entered the room, Betty burst through the hall door like a cyclone, and + collapsed into a chair. “She’s a mean, cantankerous old woman!” she + declared, feeling for her handkerchief. “You can take care of your own + Aunt Selina, Jim Wilson. I will never go near her again.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do? Poison her?” Dallas asked with interest. + </p> + <p> + “G—got camphor in her eyes,” snuffed Betty. “You never—heard + such a noise. I wouldn’t be a trained nurse for anything in the world. She—she + called me a hussy!” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not going to give her up, are you, Betty?” Jim asked imploringly. + But Betty was, and said so plainly. + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, she won’t have me back,” she finished, “and she has sent for—guess!” + </p> + <p> + “Have mercy!” Dal cried, dropping to his knees. “Oh, fair ministering + angel, she has not sent for me!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Betty said maliciously. “She wants Bella—she’s crazy about + her.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XI. I MAKE A DISCOVERY + </h2> + <p> + Really, I have left Aunt Selina rather out of it, but she was important as + a cause, not as a result; at least at first. She came out strong later. I + believe she was a very nice old woman, with strong likes and prejudices, + which she was perfectly willing to pay for. At least, I only presume she + had likes; I know she had prejudices. + </p> + <p> + Nobody every understood why Bella consented to take Betty’s place with + Aunt Selina. As for me, I was too much engrossed with my own affairs to + pay the invalid much attention. Once or twice during the day I had stopped + in to see her, and had been received frigidly and with marked disapproval. + I was in disgrace, of course, after the scene in the dining room the night + before. I had stood like a naughty child, just inside the door, and + replied meekly when she said the pillows were overstuffed, and why didn’t + I have the linen slips rinsed in starch water? She laid the blame of her + illness on me, as I have said before, and she made Jim read to her in the + afternoon from a book she carried with her, Coals of Fire on the DOMESTIC + Hearth, marking places for me to read. + </p> + <p> + She sent for me that night, just as I had taken off my gown; so I threw on + a dressing gown and went in. To my horror, Jim was already there. At a + gesture from Aunt Selina, he closed the door into the hall and tiptoed + back beside the bed, where he sat staring at the figures on the silk + comfort. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina’s first words were: + </p> + <p> + “Where’s that flibberty-gibbet?” + </p> + <p> + Jim looked at me. + </p> + <p> + “She must mean Betty,” I explained. “She has gone to bed, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t—let—her—in—this—room—again,” + she said, with awful emphasis. “She is an infamous creature.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now, Aunt Selina,” Jim broke in; “she’s foolish, perhaps, but + she’s a nice little thing.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina’s face was a curious study. Then she raised herself on her + elbow, and, taking a flat chamois-skin bag from under her pillow, held it + out. + </p> + <p> + “My cameo breastpin,” she said solemnly; “my cuff-buttons with gold rims + and storks painted on china in the middle; my watch, that has put me to + bed and got me up for forty years, and my money—five hundred and ten + dollars and forty cents!—taken with the doors locked under my nose.” + Which was ambiguous, but forcible. + </p> + <p> + “But, good gracious, Miss Car—Aunt Selina!” I exclaimed, “you don’t + think Betty Mercer took those things?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said grimly; “I think I probably got up in my sleep and lighted + the fire with them, or sent em out for a walk.” Then she stuffed the bag + away and sat up resolutely in bed. + </p> + <p> + “Have you made up?” she demanded, looking from one to the other of us. + “Bella, don’t tell me you still persist in that nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense?” I asked, getting ready to run. + </p> + <p> + “That you do not love him.” + </p> + <p> + “Him?” + </p> + <p> + “James,” she snapped irritably. “Do you suppose I mean the policeman?” + </p> + <p> + I looked over at Jimmy. She had got me by the hand, and Jimmy was making + frantic gestures to tell her the whole thing and be done with it. But I + had gone too far. The mill of the gods had crushed me already, and I + didn’t propose to be drawn out hideously mangled and held up as an example + for the next two or three weeks, although it was clear enough that Aunt + Selina disapproved of me thoroughly, and would have been glad enough to + find that no tie save the board of health held us together. And then Bella + came in, and you wouldn’t have known her. She had put on a straight white + woolen wrapper, and she had her hair in two long braids down her back. She + looked like a nice, wide-eyed little girl in her teens, and she had some + lobster salad and a glass of port on a tray. When she saw the situation, + she put the things down and had the nastiness to stay and listen. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not blind,” Aunt Selina said, with one eye on the tray. “You two + silly children adore each other; I saw some things last night.” + </p> + <p> + Bella took a step forward; then she stopped and shrugged her shoulders. + Jim was purple. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you kiss her in the dining room, remember that!” Aunt Selina went + on, giving the screw another turn. + </p> + <p> + It was Bella’s turn to be excited. She gave me one awful stare, then she + fixed her eyes on Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” Aunt Selina went on, “you told me today that you loved her. + Don’t deny it, James.” + </p> + <p> + Bella couldn’t keep quiet another instant. She came over and stood at the + foot of the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t excite yourself, DEAR Miss Caruthers,” she said in a voice + like ice. “Every one knows that he loves her; he simply overflows with it. + It—it is quite a by-word among their friends. They have been sitting + together in a corner all evening.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, that was what she said; when I had not spoken to Jimmy the whole time + in the den. Bella was cattish, and she was jealous, too. I turned on my + heel and went to the door; then I turned to her, with my hand on the knob. + </p> + <p> + “You have been misinformed,” I said coldly. “You can not possibly know, + having spent three hours in a corner yourself—with Mr. Harbison.” I + abhor jealousy in a woman. + </p> + <p> + Well, Aunt Selina ate all the lobster salad, and drank the port after + Bella had told her it was beef, iron and wine, and she slept all night, + and was able to sit up in a chair the next day, and was so infatuated with + Bella that she would not let her out of her sight. But that is ahead of + the story. + </p> + <p> + At midnight the house was fairly quiet, except for Jim, who kept walking + around the halls because he couldn’t sleep. I got up at last and ordered + him to bed, and he had the audacity to have a grievance with me. + </p> + <p> + “Look at my situation now!” he said, sitting pensively on a steam + radiator. “Aunt Selina is crazy. I only kissed your hand, anyhow, and I + don’t know why you sat in the den all evening; you might have known that + Bella would notice it. Why couldn’t you leave me alone to my misery?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I said, much offended. “After this I shall sit with Flannigan + in the kitchen. He is the only gentleman in the house.” + </p> + <p> + I left him babbling apologies and went to bed, but I had an uncomfortable + feeling that Bella had been a witness to our conversation, for the door + into Aunt Selina’s room closed softly as I passed. + </p> + <p> + I knew beforehand that I was not going to sleep. The instant I turned out + the light the nightmare events of the evening ranged themselves in a + procession, or a series of tableaus, one after the other; Flannigan on the + roof, with the bracelet on his palm, looking accusingly at me; Mr. + Harbison and the scene on the roof, with my flippancy; and the result of + that flippancy—the man on the stairs, the arms that held me, the + terrible kisses that had scorched my lips—it was awful! And then the + absurd situation across Aunt Selina’s bed, and Bella’s face! Oh, it was + all so ridiculous—my having thought that the Harbison man was a + gentleman, and finding him a cad, and worse. It was excruciatingly funny. + I quite got a headache from laughing; indeed I laughed until I found I was + crying, and then I knew I was going to have an attack of strangulated + emotion, called hysteria. So I got up and turned on all the lights, and + bathed my face with cologne, and felt better. + </p> + <p> + But I did not go to sleep. When the hall clock chimed two, I discovered I + was hungry. I had had nothing since luncheon, and even the thirst + following the South American goulash was gone. There was probably + something to eat in the pantry, and if there was not, I was quite equal to + going to the basement. + </p> + <p> + As it happened, however, I found a very orderly assortment of left-overs + and a pitcher of milk, which had no business there in the pantry, and with + plenty of light I was not at all frightened. + </p> + <p> + I ate bread and butter and drank milk, and was fast becoming a rational + person again; I had pulled out one of the drawers part way, and with a + tray across the corner I had improvised a comfortable seat. And then I + noticed that the drawer was full of soiled napkins, and I remembered the + bracelet. I hardly know why I decided to go through the drawer again, + after Flannigan had already done it, but I did. I finished my milk and + then, getting down on my knees, I proceeded systematically to empty the + drawer. I took out perhaps a dozen napkins and as many doilies without + finding anything. Then I took out a large tray cloth, and there was + something on it that made me look farther. One corner of it had been + scorched, the clear and well defined imprint of a lighted cigarette or + cigar, a blackened streak that trailed off into a brown and yellow. I had + a queer, trembly feeling, as if I were on the brink of a discovery—perhaps + Anne’s pearls, or the cuff buttons with storks painted on china in the + center. But the only thing I found, down in the corner of the drawer, was + a half-burned cigarette. + </p> + <p> + To me, it seemed quite enough. It was one of the South American + cigarettes, with a tobacco wrapper instead of paper, that Mr. Harbison + smoked. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XII. THE ROOF GARDEN + </h2> + <p> + I was quite ill the next morning—from excitement, I suppose. Anyhow, + I did not get up, and there wasn’t any breakfast. Jim said he roused + Flannigan at eight o’clock, to go down and get the fire started, and then + went back to bed. But Flannigan did not get up. He appeared, sheepishly, + at half-past ten, and by that time Bella was down, in a towering rage, and + had burned her hand and got the fire started, and had taken up a tray for + Aunt Selina and herself. + </p> + <p> + As the others straggled down they boiled themselves eggs or ate fruit, and + nobody put anything away. Lollie Mercer made me some tea and scorched + toast, and brought it, about eleven o’clock. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw such a house,” she declared. “A dozen housemaids couldn’t put + it in order. Why should every man that smokes drop ashes wherever he + happens to be?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the question of the ages,” I replied languidly. “What was Max + talking so horribly about a little while ago?” Lollie looked up aggrieved. + </p> + <p> + “About nothing at all,” she declared. “Anne told me to clean the bath tubs + with oil, and I did it, that’s all. Now Max says he couldn’t get it off, + and his clothes stick to him, and if he should forget and strike a match + in the—in the usual way, he would explode. He can clean his own tub + tomorrow,” she finished vindictively. + </p> + <p> + At noon Jim came in to see me, bringing Anne as a concession to Bella. He + was in a rage, and he carried the morning paper like a club in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a newspaper lie would you call this?” he demanded irritably. + “It makes me crazy; everybody with a mental image of me leaning over the + parapet of the roof, waving a board, with the rest of you sitting on my + legs to keep me from overbalancing!” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe there’s a picture!” Anne said hopefully. + </p> + <p> + Jim looked. + </p> + <p> + “No picture,” he announced. “I wonder why they restrained themselves! I + wish Bella would keep off the roof,” he added, with fresh access of rage, + “or wear a mask or veil. One of those fellows is going to recognize her, + and there’ll be the deuce to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “When you are all through discussing this thing, perhaps you will tell me + what is the matter,” I remarked from my couch. “Why did you lean over the + parapet, Jim, and who sat on your legs?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t; nobody did,” he retorted, waving the newspaper. “It’s a lie out + of the whole cloth, that’s what it is. I asked you girls to be decent to + those reporters; it never pays to offend a newspaper man. Listen to this, + Kit.” + </p> + <p> + He read the article rapidly, furiously, pausing every now and then to make + an exasperated comment. + </p> + <p> + ATTEMPT AT ESCAPE FRUSTRATED MEMBERS OF THE FOUR HUNDRED DEFY THE LAW + </p> + <p> + “Special Officer McCloud, on duty at the quarantined house of James + Wilson, artist and clubman, on Ninety-fifth Street, reported this morning + a daring attempt at escape, made at 3 A.M. It is in this house that some + eight or nine members of the smart set were imprisoned during the course + of a dinner party, when the Japanese butler developed smallpox. The party + shut in the house includes Miss Katherine McNair, the daughter of Theodore + McNair, of the Inter-Ocean system; Mr. and Mrs. Dallas Brown; the Misses + Mercer; Maxwell Reed, the well-known clubman and whip; and a Mr. Thomas + Harbison, guest of the Dallas Browns and a South American. + </p> + <p> + “Officer McCloud’s story, told to a Chronicle reporter this morning, is as + follows: The occupants of the house had been uneasy all day. From the air + of subdued bustle, and from a careful inspection of the roof, made by the + entire party during the afternoon, his suspicion had been aroused. Nothing + unusual, however, occurred during the early part of the night. From eight + o’clock to twelve, McCloud was relieved from duty, his place being taken + by Michael Shane, of the Eighty-sixth Street Station. + </p> + <p> + “When McCloud came on duty at midnight, Shane reported that about eleven + o’clock the searchlight of a steamer on the river, flashing over the + house, had shown a man crouching on the parapet, evidently surveying the + roof across, which at this point is only twelve feet distant, with a view + of making his escape. One seeing Shane below, however, he had beat a + retreat, but not before the officer had seen him distinctly. He was + dressed in evening clothes and wore a light tan overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “Officer McCloud relieved Shane at midnight, and sent for a plain-clothes + man from the station house. This man was stationed on the roof of the + Bevington residence next door, with strict injunctions to prevent an + escape from the quarantined mansion. Nothing suspicious having occurred, + the man on the roof left about 3 A.M., reporting to McCloud below that + everything was quiet. At that moment, glancing skyward, one of the + officers was astounded to see a long narrow board project itself from the + coping of the Wildon house, waver uncertainly for a moment, and then + advance stealthily toward the parapet across. When it was within a foot or + two of a resting place, McCloud called sharply to the invisible refugee + above, at the same time firing his revolver in the ground. + </p> + <p> + “The result was surprising. The board stopped, trembled, swayed a little, + and dropped, missing the vigilant officers by a hair’s breadth, and + crashing to the cement with a terrific force. An inspection of the roof + from the Bevington house, later, revealed nothing unusual. It is evident, + however, that the quarantine is proving irksome to the inhabitants of the + sequestered residence, most of whom are typical society folk, without + resources in themselves. Their condition, without valets and maids, is + certainly pitiable. It has been rumored that the ladies are doing their + own hair, and that the gentlemen have been reduced to putting their own + buttons in their shirts. This deplorable situation, however, is + unavoidable. + </p> + <p> + “The vigilance of the board of health has been most commendable in this + case. Beginning with a wager over the telephone that they would break + quarantine in twenty-four hours, and ending with the attempt to span a + twelve-foot gulf with a board, over which to cross to freedom, these + shut-in society folk have shown characteristic disregard of the laws of + the state. It is quite time to extend to the millionaire the same + strictness that keeps the commuter at home for three weeks with the + measles; that makes him get the milk bottles and groceries from the gate + post and smell like dog soap for a month afterward, as a result of + disinfection.’” + </p> + <p> + We sat in dead silence for a minute. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is true,” I said. “Not of you, Jim—but some one may have + tried to get out that way. In fact, I think it extremely likely.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Flannigan? You couldn’t drive him out. He’s having the time of his + life. Do you suspect me?” + </p> + <p> + “Come away and don’t fight,” Anne broke in pacifically. “You will have to + have luncheon sent in, Jimmy; nobody has ordered anything from the shops, + and I feel like old Mother Hubbard.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would all go out,” I said wearily. “If every man in the house + says he didn’t try to get over to the next roof last night, well and good. + But you might look and see if the board is still lying where it fell.” + </p> + <p> + There was an instantaneous rush for the window, and a second’s pause. Then + Jimmy’s voice, incredulous, awed: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll be—blessed! There’s the board!” + </p> + <p> + I stayed in my room all that day. My head really ached and then, too, I + did not care to meet Mr. Harbison. It would have to come; I realized that + a meeting was inevitable, but I wanted time to think how I would meet him. + It would be impossible to cut him, without rousing the curiosity of the + others to fever pitch; and it was equally impossible to ignore the + disgraceful episode on the stairs. As it happened, however, I need not + have worried. I went down to dinner, languidly, when every one was seated, + and found Max at my right, and Mr. Harbison moved over beside Bella. Every + one was talking at once, for Flannigan, ambling around the table as airily + as he walked his beat, had presented Bella with her bracelet on a salad + plate, garnished with romaine. He had found it in the furnace room, he + said, where she must have dropped it. And he looked at me stealthily, to + approve his mendacity! + </p> + <p> + Every one was famished, and as they ate they discussed the board in the + area way, and pretended to deride it as a clever bit of press work, to + revive a dying sensation. No one was deceived; Anne’s pearls and the + attempt to escape, coming just after, pointed only to one thing. I looked + around the table, dazed. Flannigan, almost the only unknown quantity, + might have tried to escape the night before, but he would not have been in + dress clothes. Besides, he must be eliminated as far as the pearls were + concerned, having been locked in the furnace room the night they were + stolen. There was no one among the girls to suspect. The Mercer girls had + stunning pearls, and could secure all they wanted legitimately; and Bella + disliked them. Oh, there was no question about it, I decided; Dallas and + Anne had taken a wolf to their bosom—or is it a viper?—and the + Harbison man was the creature. Although I must say that, looking over the + table, at Jimmy’s breadth and not very imposing personality, at Max’s lean + length, sallow skin, and bold dark eyes, at Dallas, blond, growing bald + and florid, and then at the Harbison boy, tall, muscular, clear-eyed and + sunburned, one would have taken Max at first choice as the villain, with + Dal next, Jim third, and the Harbison boy not in the running. + </p> + <p> + It was just after dinner that the surprise was sprung on me. Mr. Harbison + came around to me gravely, and asked me if I felt able to go up on the + roof. On the roof, after last night! I had to gather myself together; + luckily, the others were pushing back their chairs, showing Flannigan the + liqueur glasses to take up, and lighting cigars. + </p> + <p> + “I do not care to go,” I said icily. + </p> + <p> + “The others are coming,” he persisted, “and I—I could give you an + arm up the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are good at that,” I said, looking at him steadily. “Max, + will you help me to the roof?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison really turned rather white. Then he bowed ceremoniously and + left me. + </p> + <p> + Max got me a wrap, and every one except Mr. Harbison and Bella, who was + taking a mass of indigestables to Aunt Selina, went to the roof. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Tom?” Anne asked, as we reached the foot of the stairs. “Gone + ahead to fix things,” was the answer. But he was not there. At the top of + the last flight I stopped, dumb with amazement; the roof had been + transformed, enchanted. It was a fairy-land of lights and foliage and + colors. I had to stop and rub my eyes. From the bleakness of a tin roof in + February to the brightness and greenery of a July roof garden! + </p> + <p> + “You were the immediate inspiration, Kit,” Dallas said. “Harbison thought + your headache might come from lack of exercise and fresh air, and he has + worked us like nailers all day. I’ve a blister on my right palm, and + Harbison got shocked while he was wiring the place, and nearly fell over + the parapet. We bought out two full-sized florists by telephone.” + </p> + <p> + It was the most amazing transformation. At each corner a pole had been + erected, and wires crossed the roof diagonally, hung with red and amber + bulbs. Around the chimneys had been massed evergreen trees in tubs, hiding + their brick-and-mortar ugliness, and among the trees tiny lights were + strung. Along the parapet were rows of geometrical boxwood plants in + bright red crocks, and the flaps of a crimson and white tent had been + thrown open, showing lights within, and rugs, wicker chairs, and cushions. + </p> + <p> + Max raised a glass of benedictine and posed for a moment, + melodramatically. + </p> + <p> + “To the Wilson roof garden!” he said. “To Kit, who inspired; to the + creators, who perspired; and to Takahiro—may he not have expired.” + </p> + <p> + Every one was very gay; I think the knowledge that tomorrow Aunt Selina + might be with them urged them to make the most of this last night of + freedom. I tried to be jolly, and succeeded in being feverish. Mr. + Harbison did not come up to enjoy what he had wrought. Jim brought up his + guitar and sang love songs in a beautiful tenor, looking at Bella all the + time. And Bella sat in a steamer chair, with a rug over her and a spangled + veil on her head, looking at the boats on the river—about as soft + and as chastened as an an acetylene headlight. + </p> + <p> + And after Max had told the most improbable tale, which Leila advised him + to sprinkle salt on, and Dallas had done a clog dance, Bella said it was + time for her complexion sleep and went downstairs, and broke up the party. + </p> + <p> + “If she only give half as an much care to her immortal soul,” Anne said + when she had gone, “as she does to her skin, she would let that nice + Harbison boy alone. She must have been brutal to him tonight, for he went + to bed at nine o’clock. At least, I suppose he went to bed, for he shut + himself in the studio, and when I knocked he advised me not to come in.” + </p> + <p> + I had pleaded my headache as an excuse for avoiding Aunt Selina all day, + and she had not sent for me. Bella was really quite extraordinary. She was + never in the habit of putting herself out for any one, and she always + declared that the very odor of a sick room drove her to Scotch and soda. + But here she was, rubbing Aunt Selina’s back with chloroform liniment—and + you know how that smells—getting her up in a chair, dressed in one + of Bella’s wadded silk robes, with pillows under her feet, and then doing + her hair in elaborate puffs—braiding her gray switch and bringing + it, coronet-fashion, around the top of her head. She even put rice powder + on Aunt Selina’s nose, and dabbed violet water behind her ears, and said + she couldn’t understand why she (Aunt Selina) had never married, but, of + course, she probably would some day! + </p> + <p> + The result was, naturally, that the old lady wouldn’t let Bella out of her + sight, except to go to the kitchen for something to eat for her. That very + day Bella got the doctor to order ale for Aunt Selina (oh, yes; the doctor + could come in; Dal said “it was all a-coming in, and nothing going out”) + and she had three pints of Bass, and learned to eat anchovies and caviare—all + in one day. + </p> + <p> + Bella’s conduct to Jim was disgraceful. She snubbed him, ignored him, + tramped on him, and Jim was growing positively flabby. He spent most of + his time writing letters to the board of health and playing solitaire. He + was a pathetic figure. + </p> + <p> + Well, we went to bed fairly early. Bella had massaged Aunt Selina’s face + and rubbed in cold cream, Anne and Dallas had compromised on which window + should be open in their bedroom, and the men had matched to see who should + look at the furnace. I did not expect to sleep, but the cold night air had + done its work, and I was asleep almost immediately. + </p> + <p> + Some time during the early part of the night I wakened, and, after turning + and twisting uneasily, I realized that I was cold. The couch in Bella’s + dressing room was comfortable enough, but narrow and low. I remember + distinctly (that was what was so maddening; everybody thought I dreamed + it)—I remember getting an eiderdown comfort that was folded at my + feet, and pulling it up around me. In the luxury of its warmth I snuggled + down and went to sleep almost instantly. It seemed to me I had slept for + hours, but it was probably an hour or less, when something roused me. The + room was perfectly dark, and there was not a sound save the faint ticking + of the clock, but I was wide awake. + </p> + <p> + And then came the incident that in its ghastly, horrible absurdity made + the rest of the people shout with laughter the next day. It was not funny + then. For suddenly the eiderdown comfort began to slip. I heard no + footstep, not the slightest sound approaching me, but the comfort moved; + from my chin, inch by inch, it slipped to my shoulders; awfully, + inevitably, hair-raisingly it moved. I could feel my blood gather around + my heart, leaving me cold and nerveless. As it passed my hands I gave an + involuntary clutch for it, to feel it slip away from my fingers. Then the + full horror of the situation took hold of me; as the comfort slid past my + feet I sat up and screamed at the top of my voice. + </p> + <p> + Of course, people came running in all sorts of things. I was still sitting + up, declaring I had seen a ghost and that the house was haunted. Dallas + was struggling for the second armhole of his dressing gown and Bella had + already turned on the lights. They said I had had a nightmare, and not to + sleep on my back, and perhaps I was taking grippe. + </p> + <p> + And just then we heard Jimmy run down the stairs, and fall over something, + almost breaking his wrist. It was the eiderdown comfort, half-way up the + studio staircase! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XIII. HE DOES NOT DENY IT + </h2> + <p> + Aunt Selina got up the next morning and Jim told her all the strange + things that had been happening. She fixed on Flannigan, of course, + although she still suspected Betty of her watch and other valuables. The + incident of the comfort she called nervous indigestion and bad hours. + </p> + <p> + She spent the entire day going through the storeroom and linen closets, + and running her fingers over things for dust. Whenever she found any she + looked at me, drew a long breath, and said, “Poor James!” It was + maddening. And when she went through his clothes and found some buttons + off (Jim didn’t keep a man, and Takahiro had stopped at his boots) she + looked at me quite awfully. + </p> + <p> + “His mother was a perfect housekeeper,” she said. “James was brought up in + clothes with the buttons on, put on clean shelves.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t they put them on him?” I asked, almost hysterically. It had been a + bad morning, after a worse night. Every one had found fault with the + breakfast, and they straggled down one at a time until I was frantic. Then + Flannigan had talked to me about the pearls, and Mr. Harbison had said, + “Good morning,” very stiffly, and nearly rattled the inside of the furnace + out. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning, too, I overheard a scrap of conversation between the + policeman and our gentleman adventurer from South America. Something had + gone wrong with the telephone and Mr. Harbison was fussing over it with a + screw driver and a pair of scissors—all the tools he could find. + Flannigan was lifting rugs to shake them on the roof—Bella’s order. + </p> + <p> + “Wash the table linen!” he was grumbling. “I’ll do what I can that’s + necessary. Grub has to be cooked, and dishes has to be washed—I’ll + admit that. If you’re particular, make up your bed every day; I don’t + object. But don’t tell me we have to use thirty-three table napkins a day. + What did folks do before napkins was invented? Tell me that!”—triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the answer?” Mr. Harbison inquired absently, evidently with the + screw driver in his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Used their pocket handkerchiefs! And if the worst comes to the worst, Mr. + Harbison, these folks here can use their sleeves, for all I care—not + that the women has any sleeves to speak of. Wash clothes I will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t worry Mrs. Wilson about it,” the other voice said. Flannigan + straightened himself with a grunt. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wilson!” he said. “A lot she would worry. She’s been a + disappointment to me, Mr. Harbison, me thinking that now she’d come back + to him, after leavin’ him the way she did, they’d be like two turtle + doves. Lord! The cook next door—” + </p> + <p> + But what the cook had told about Bella and Jimmy was not divulged, for the + Harbison man caught him up with a jerk and sent Flannigan, grumbling, with + his rugs to the roof. + </p> + <p> + It did not seem possible to carry on the deception much longer, but if + things were bad now, what would they be when Aunt Selina learned she had + been lied to, made ridiculous, generally deceived? And how would I be able + to live in the house with her when she did know? Luckily, every one was so + puzzled over the mystery in the house that numbers of little things that + would have been absolutely damning were never noticed at all. For + instance, my asking Jimmy at luncheon that day if he took cream in his + coffee! And Max coming to the rescue by dropping his watch in his glass of + water, and creating a diversion and giving everybody an opportunity to + laugh by saying not to mind, it had been in soak before. + </p> + <p> + Just after luncheon Aunt Selina brought me some undergarments of Jim’s to + be patched. She explained at length that he had always worn out his + undergarments, because he always squirmed around so when he was sitting. + And she showed me how to lay one of the garments over a pillow to get the + patch in properly. + </p> + <p> + It was the most humiliating moment of my life, but there was no escape. I + took my sewing to the roof, while she went away to find something else for + me to do when that was finished, and I sat with the thing on my knee and + stared at it, while rebellious tears rolled down my cheeks. The patch was + not the shape of the hole at all, and every time I took a stitch I sewed + it fast to the pillow beneath. It was terrible. Jim came up after a while + and sat down across from me and watched, without saying anything. I + suppose what he felt would not have been proper to say to me. We had both + reached the point where adequate language failed us. Finally he said: + </p> + <p> + “I wish I were dead.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” I retorted, jerking the thread. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “Looking for more of these.” I indicated the garment over the pillow, and + he wiggled. “Please don’t squirm,” I said coldly. “You will wear out your—lingerie, + and I will have to mend them.” + </p> + <p> + He sat very still for five minutes, when I discovered that I had put the + patch in crosswise instead of lengthwise and that it would not fit. As I + jerked it out he sneezed. + </p> + <p> + “Or sneeze,” I added venomously. “You will tear your buttons off, and I + will have to sew them on.” + </p> + <p> + Jim rose wrathfully. “Don’t sit, don’t sneeze,” he repeated. “Don’t stand, + I suppose, for fear I will wear out my socks. Here, give me that. If the + fool thing has to be mended, I’ll do it myself.” + </p> + <p> + He went over to a corner of the parapet and turned his back to me. He was + very much offended. In about a minute he came back, triumphant, and held + out the result of his labor. I could only gasp. He had puckered up the + edges of the hole like the neck of a bag, and had tied the thread around + it. “You—you won’t be able to sit down,” I ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t have any time to sit,” he retorted promptly. “Anyhow, it will give + some, won’t it? It would if it was tied with elastic instead of thread. + Have you any elastic?” + </p> + <p> + Lollie came up just then, and Jim took himself and his mending downstairs. + Luckily, Aunt Selina found several letters in his room that afternoon + while she was going over his clothes, and as it took Jim some time to + explain them, she forgot the task she had given me altogether. + </p> + <p> + When Lollie came up to the roof, she closed the door to the stairs, and + coming over, drew a chair close to mine. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen much of Tom today?” she asked, as an introduction. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you mean Mr. Harbison, Lollie,” I said. “No—not any more + than I could help. Don’t whisper, he couldn’t possibly hear you. And if + it’s scandal I don’t want to know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Kit,” she retorted, “you needn’t be so superior. If I like to + talk scandal, I’m not so sure you aren’t making it.” + </p> + <p> + That was the way right along: I was making scandal; I brought them there + to dinner; I let Bella in! + </p> + <p> + And, of course, Anne came up then, and began on me at once. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very bad girl,” she began. “What do you mean by treating Tom + Harbison the way you do? He is heart-broken.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you exaggerate my influence over him,” I retorted. “I haven’t + treated him badly, because I haven’t paid any attention to him.” + </p> + <p> + Anne threw up her hands. + </p> + <p> + “There you are!” she said. “He worked all day yesterday fixing this place + for you—yes, for you, my dear. I am not blind—and last night + you refused to let him bring you up.” + </p> + <p> + “He told you!” I flamed. + </p> + <p> + “He wondered what he had done. And as you wouldn’t let him come within + speaking distance of you, he came to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Anne, since you are fond of him,” I said. “But to me he is + impossible—intolerable. My reasons are quite sufficient.” + </p> + <p> + “Kit is perfectly right, Anne,” Leila broke in. “I tell you, there is + something queer about him,” she added in a portentous whisper. + </p> + <p> + Anne stiffened. + </p> + <p> + “He is perfect,” she declared. “Of good family, warm-hearted, courageous, + handsome, clever—what more do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Honesty,” said Leila hotly. “That a man should be what he says he is.” + </p> + <p> + Anne and I both stared. + </p> + <p> + “It is your Mr. Harbison,” Leila went on, “who tried to escape from the + house by putting a board across to the next roof!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it,” said Anne. “You might bring me a picture of him, + board in hand, and I wouldn’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t then,” Lollie said cruelly. “Let him get away with your pearls; + they are yours. Only, as sure as anything, the man who tried to escape + from the house had a reason for escaping, and the papers said a man in + evening dress and light overcoat. I found Mr. Harbison’s overcoat today + lying in a heap in one of the maids’ rooms, and it was covered with brick + dust all over the front. A button had even been torn off.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” Anne said, when she had recovered herself a little. “There isn’t + any reason, as far as that goes, why Flannigan shouldn’t have worn Tom’s + overcoat, or—any of the others.” + </p> + <p> + “Flannigan!” Leila said loftily. “Why, his arms are like piano legs; he + couldn’t get into it. As for the others, there is only one person who + would fit, or nearly fit, that overcoat, and that is Dallas, Anne.” + </p> + <p> + While Anne was choking down her wrath, Leila got up and darted out of the + tent. When she came back she was triumphant. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” she said, holding out her hand. And on her palm lay a lightish + brown button. “I found it just where the paper said the board was thrown + out, and it is from Mr. Harbison’s overcoat, without a doubt.” + </p> + <p> + Of course I should not have been surprised. A man who would kiss a woman + on a dark staircase—a woman he had known only two days—was + capable of anything. + </p> + <p> + “Kit has only been a little keener than the rest of us,” Lollie said. “She + found him out yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word,” said Anne indignantly, preparing to go, “if I didn’t know + you girls so well, I would think you were crazy. And now, just to offset + this, I can tell you something. Flannigan told me this morning not to + worry; that he has my pearl collar spotted, and that YOUNG LADIES WILL + HAVE THEIR JOKES!” + </p> + <p> + Yes, as I said before, it was a cheerful, joy-producing situation. + </p> + <p> + I sat and thought it over after Anne’s parting shot, when Leila had + flounced downstairs. Things were closing in; I gave the situation + twenty-four hours to develop. At the end of that time Flannigan would + accuse me openly of knowing where the pearls were; I would explain my + silly remark to him and the mine would explode—under Aunt Selina. + </p> + <p> + I was sunk in dejected reverie when some one came on the roof. When he was + opposite the opening in the tent, I saw Mr. Harbison, and at that moment + he saw me. He paused uncertainly, then he made an evident effort and came + over to me. + </p> + <p> + “You are—better today?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite well, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you find the tent useful. Does it keep off the wind?” + </p> + <p> + “It is quite a shelter”—frigidly. + </p> + <p> + He still stood, struggling for something to say. Evidently nothing came to + his mind, for he lifted the cap he was wearing, and turning away, began to + work with the wiring of the roof. He was clever with tools; one could see + that. If he was a professional gentleman-burglar, no doubt he needed to + be. After a bit, finding it necessary to climb to the parapet, he took off + his coat, without even a glance in my direction, and fell to work + vigorously. + </p> + <p> + One does not need to like a man to admire him physically, any more than + one needs to like a race horse or any other splendid animal. No one could + deny that the man on the parapet was a splendid animal; he looked quite + big enough and strong enough to have tossed his slender bridge across the + gulf to the next roof, without any difficulty, and coordinate enough to + have crossed on it with a flourish to safety. + </p> + <p> + Just then there was a rending, tearing sound from the corner and a + muttered ejaculation. I looked up in time to see Mr. Harbison throw up his + arms, make a futile attempt to regain his balance, and disappear over the + edge of the roof. One instant he was standing there, splendid, superb; the + next, the corner of the parapet was empty, all that stood there was a + broken, splintered post and a tangle of wires. + </p> + <p> + I could not have moved at first; at least, it seemed hours before the full + significance of the thing penetrated my dazed brain. When I got up I + seemed to walk, to crawl, with leaden weights holding back my feet. + </p> + <p> + When I got to the corner I had to catch the post for support. I knew + somebody was saying, “Oh, how terrible!” over and over. It was only + afterward that I knew it had been myself. And then some other voice was + saying, “Don’t be alarmed. Please don’t be frightened. I’m all right.” + </p> + <p> + I dared to look over the parapet, finally, and instead of a crushed and + unspeakable body, there was Mr. Harbison, sitting about eight feet below + me, with his feet swinging into space and a long red scratch from the + corner of his eye across his cheek. There was a sort of mansard there, + with windows, and just enough coping to keep him from rolling off. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had fallen—all the way,” I gasped, trying to keep my + lips from trembling. “I—oh, don’t dangle your feet like that!” + </p> + <p> + He did not seem at all glad of his escape. He sat there gloomily, peering + into the gulf beneath. + </p> + <p> + “If it wasn’t so—er—messy and generally unpleasant,” he + replied without looking up, “I would slide off and go the rest of the + way.” + </p> + <p> + “You are childish,” I said severely. “See if you can get through the + window behind you. If you can not, I’ll come down and unfasten it.” But + the window was open, and I had a chance to sit down and gather up the + scattered ends of my nerves. To my surprise, however, when he came back he + made no effort to renew our conversation. He ignored me completely, and + went to work at once to repair the damage to his wires, with his back to + me. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are very rude,” I said at last. “You fell over there and I + thought you were killed. The nervous shock I experienced is just as bad as + if you had gone—all the way.” + </p> + <p> + He put down the hammer and came over to me without speaking. Then, when he + was quite close, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry if I startled you. I did not flatter myself that you + would be profoundly affected, in any event.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to that,” I said lightly, “it makes me ill for days if my car runs + over a dog.” He looked at me in silence. “You are not going to get up on + that parapet again?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wilson,” he said, without paying the slightest attention to my + question, “will you tell me what I have done?” + </p> + <p> + “Done?” + </p> + <p> + “Or have not done? I have racked my brains—stayed awake all of last + night. At first I hoped it was impersonal, that, womanlike you were merely + venting general disfavor on one particular individual. But—your + hostility is to me, personally.” + </p> + <p> + I raised my eyebrows, coldly interrogative. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” he went on calmly—“perhaps I was a fool here on the roof—the + night before last. If I said anything that I should not, I ask your + pardon. If it is not that, I think you ought to ask mine!” + </p> + <p> + I was angry enough then. + </p> + <p> + “There can be only one opinion about your conduct,” I retorted warmly. “It + was worse than brutal. It—it was unspeakable. I have no words for it—except + that I loathe it—and you.” + </p> + <p> + He was very grim by this time. “I have heard you say something like that + before—only I was not the unfortunate in that case.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I was choking. + </p> + <p> + “Under different circumstances I should be the last person to recall + anything so—personal. But the circumstances are unusual.” He took an + angry step toward me. “Will you tell me what I have done? Or shall I go + down and ask the others?” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t dare,” I cried, “or I will tell them what you did! How you + waylaid me on those stairs there, and forced your caresses, your kisses, + on me! Oh, I could die with shame!” + </p> + <p> + The silence that followed was as unexpected as it was ominous. I knew he + was staring at me, and I was furious to find myself so emotional, so much + more the excited of the two. Finally, I looked up. + </p> + <p> + “You can not deny it,” I said, a sort of anti-climax. + </p> + <p> + “No.” He was very quiet, very grim, quite composed. “No,” he repeated + judicially. “I do not deny it.” + </p> + <p> + He did not? Or he would not? Which? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XIV. ALMOST, BUT NOT QUITE + </h2> + <p> + Dal had been acting strangely all day. Once, early in the evening, when I + had doubled no trump, he led me a club without apology, and later on, + during his dummy, I saw him writing our names on the back of an envelope, + and putting numbers after them. At my earliest opportunity I went to Max. + </p> + <p> + “There is something the matter with Dal, Max,” I volunteered. “He has been + acting strangely all day, and just now he was making out a list—names + and numbers.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re to blame for that, Kit,” Max said seriously. “You put washing soda + instead of baking soda in those biscuits today, and he thinks he is a + steam laundry. Those are laundry lists he’s making out. He asked me a + little while ago if I wanted a domestic finish.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, I had put washing soda in the biscuits. The book said soda, and how + is one to know which is meant? + </p> + <p> + “I do not think you are calculated for a domestic finish,” I said coldly + as I turned away. “In any case I disclaim any such responsibility. But—there + is SOMETHING on Dal’s mind.” + </p> + <p> + Max came after me. “Don’t be cross, Kit. You haven’t said a nice word to + me today, and you go around bristling with your chin up and two red spots + on your cheeks—like whatever-her-name-was with the snakes instead of + hair. I don’t know why I’m so crazy about you; I always meant to love a + girl with a nice disposition.” + </p> + <p> + I left him then. Dal had gone into the reception room and closed the + doors. And because he had been acting so strangely, and partly to escape + from Max, whose eyes looked threatening, I followed him. Just as I opened + the door quietly and looked in, Dallas switched off the lights, and I + could hear him groping his way across the room. Then somebody—not + Dal—spoke from the corner, cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Mr. Brown, sir?” It was Flannigan. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Is everything here?” + </p> + <p> + “All but the powder, sir. Don’t step too close. They’re spread all over + the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you taken the curtains down?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Matches?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Light one, will you, Flannigan? I want to see the time.” + </p> + <p> + The flare showed Dallas and Flannigan bent over the timepiece. And it + showed something else. The rug had been turned back from the windows which + opened on the street, and the curtains had been removed. On the bare + hardwood floor just beneath the windows was an array of pans of various + sizes, dish pans, cake tins, and a metal foot tub. The pans were raised + from the floor on bricks, and seemed to be full of paper. All the chairs + and tables were pushed back against the wall, and the bric-a-brac was + stacked on the mantel. + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour yet,” Dal said, closing his watch. “Plenty of time, and + remember the signal, four short and two long.” + </p> + <p> + “Four short and two long—all right, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And—Flannigan, here’s something for you, on account.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Dal turned to go out, tripped over the rug, said something, and passed me + without an idea of my presence. A moment later Flannigan went out, and I + was left, huddled against the wall, and alone. + </p> + <p> + It was puzzling enough. “Four long and two short!” “All but the powder!” + Not that I believed for a moment what Max had said, and anyhow Flannigan + was the sanest person I ever saw in my life. But it all seemed a part of + the mystery that had been hanging over us for several days. I felt my way + across the room and knelt by the pans. Yes, they were there, full of paper + and mounted on bricks. It had not been a delusion. + </p> + <p> + And then I straightened on my knees suddenly, for an automobile passing + under the windows had sounded four short honks and two long ones. The + signal was followed instantly by a crash. The foot bath had fallen from + its supports, and lay, quivering and vibrating with horrid noises at my + feet. The next moment Mr. Harbison had thrown open the door and leaped + into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s there?” he demanded. Against the light I could see him reaching for + his hip pocket, and the rest crowding up around him. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only me,” I quavered, “that is, I. The—the dish pan upset.” + </p> + <p> + “Dish pan!” Bella said from back in the crowd. “Kit, of course!” + </p> + <p> + Jim forced his way through then and turned on the lights. I have no doubt + I looked very strange, kneeling there on the bare floor, with a row of + pans mounted on bricks behind me, and the furniture all piled on itself in + a back corner. + </p> + <p> + “Kit! What in the world—!” Jim began, and stopped. He stared from me + to the pans, to the windows, to the bric-a-brac on the mantel, and back to + me. + </p> + <p> + I sat stonily silent. Why should I explain? Whenever I got into a foolish + position, and tried to explain, and tell how it happened, and who was + really to blame, they always brought it back to ME somehow. So I sat there + on the floor and let them stare. And finally Lollie Mercer got her breath + and said, “How perfectly lovely; it’s a charade!” + </p> + <p> + And Anne guessed “kitchen” at once. “Kit, you know, and the pans and—all + that,” she said vaguely. At that they all took to guessing! And I sat + still, until Mr. Harbison saw the storm in my eyes and came over to me. + </p> + <p> + “Have you hurt your ankle?” he said in an undertone. “Let me help you up.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not hurt,” I said coldly, “and even if I were, it would be + unnecessary to trouble you.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not help being troubled,” he returned, just as evenly. “‘You see, + it makes me ill for days if my car runs over a dog.’” + </p> + <p> + Luckily, at that moment Dal came in. He pushed his way through the crowd + without a word, shut off the lights, crashed through the pans and slammed + the shutters closed. Then he turned and addressed the rest. + </p> + <p> + “Of all the lunatics—!” he began, only there was more to it than + that. “A fellow goes to all kinds of trouble to put an end to this + miserable situation, and the entire household turns out and sets to work + to frustrate the whole scheme. You LIKE to stay here, don’t you, like + chickens in a coop? Where’s Flannigan?” + </p> + <p> + Nobody understood Dal’s wrath then, but it seems he meant to arrange the + plot himself, and when it was ripe, and the hour nearly come, he intended + to wager that he could break the quarantine, and to take any odds he could + get that he would free the entire party in half an hour. As for the plan + itself, it was idiotically simple; we were perfectly delighted when we + heard it. It was so simple and yet so comprehensive. We didn’t see how it + COULD fail. Both the Mercer girls kissed Dal on the strength of it, and + Anne was furious. Jim was not so much pleased, for some reason or other, + and Mr. Harbison looked thoughtful rather than merry. Aunt Selina had gone + to bed. + </p> + <p> + The idea, of course, was to start an embryo fire just inside the windows, + in the pans, to feed it with the orange-fire powder that is used on the + Fourth of July, and when we had thrown open the windows and yelled “fire” + and all the guards and reporters had rushed to the front of the house, to + escape quietly by a rear door from the basement kitchen, get into machines + Dal had in waiting, and lose ourselves as quickly as we could. + </p> + <p> + You can see how simple it was. + </p> + <p> + We were terribly excited, of course. Every one rushed madly for motor + coats and veils, and Dal shuffled the numbers so the people going the same + direction would have the same machine. We called to each other as we + dressed about Mamaroneck or Lakewood or wherever we happened to have + relatives. Everybody knew everybody else, and his friends. The Mercer + girls were going to cruise until the trouble blew over, the Browns were + going to Pinehurst, and Jim was going to Africa to hunt, if he could get + out of the harbor. + </p> + <p> + Only the Harbison man seemed to have no plans; quite suddenly with the + world so near again, the world of country houses and steam yachts and all + the rest of it, he ceased to be one of us. It was not his world at all. He + stood back and watched the kaleidoscope of our coats and veils, + half-quizzically, but with something in his face that I had not seen there + before. If he had not been so self-reliant and big, I would have said he + was lonely. Not that he was pathetic in any sense of the word. Of course, + he avoided me, which was natural and exactly what I wished. Bella never + was far from him and at the last she loaded him with her jewel case and a + muff and traveling bag and asked him to her cousins’ on Long Island. I + felt sure he was going to decline, when he glanced across at me. + </p> + <p> + “Do go,” I said, very politely. “They are charming people.” And he + accepted at once! + </p> + <p> + It was a transparent plot on Bella’s part: Two elderly maiden ladies, + house miles from anywhere, long evenings in the music room with an open + fire and Bella at the harp playing the two songs she knows. + </p> + <p> + When we were ready and gathered in the kitchen, in the darkness, of + course, Dal went up on the roof and signaled with a lantern to the cars on + the drive. Then he went downstairs, took a last look at the drawing room, + fired the papers, shook on the powder, opened the windows and yelled + “fire!” + </p> + <p> + Of course, huddled in the kitchen we had heard little or nothing. But we + plainly heard Dal on the first floor and Flannigan on the second yelling + “fire,” and the patter of feet as the guards ran to the front of the + house. And at that instant we remembered Aunt Selina! + </p> + <p> + That was the cause of the whole trouble. I don’t know why they turned on + me; she wasn’t my aunt. But by the time we had got her out of bed, and had + wrapped her in an eiderdown comfort, and stuck slippers on her feet and a + motor veil on her head, the glare at the front of the house was beginning + to die away. She didn’t understand at all and we had no time to explain. I + remember that she wanted to go back and get her “plate,” whatever that may + be, but Jim took her by the arm and hurried her along, and the rest, who + had waited, and were in awful tempers, stood aside and let them out first. + </p> + <p> + The door to the area steps was open, and by the street lights we could see + a fence and a gate, which opened on a side street. Jim and Aunt Selina ran + straight for the gate; the wind blowing Aunt Selina’s comfort like a sail. + Then, with our feet, so to speak, on the first rungs of the ladder of + Liberty, it slipped. A half-dozen guards and reporters came around the + house and drove us back like sheep into a slaughter pen. It was the most + humiliating moment of my life. + </p> + <p> + Dal had been for fighting a way through, and just for a minute I think I + went Berserk myself. But Max spied one of the reporters setting up a flash + light as we stood, undecided, at the top of the steps, and after that + there was nothing to do but retreat. We backed down slowly, to show them + we were not afraid. And when we were all in the kitchen again, and had + turned on the lights and Bella was crying with her head against Mr. + Harbison’s arm, Dal said cheerfully, + </p> + <p> + “Well, it has done some good, anyhow. We have lost Aunt Selina.” + </p> + <p> + And we all shook hands on it, although we were sorry about Jim. And Dal + said we would have some champagne and drink to Aunt Selina’s comfort, and + we could have her teeth fumigated and send them to her. Somebody said + “Poor old Jim,” and at that Bella looked up. + </p> + <p> + She stared around the group, and then she went quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Jim!” she gasped. “Do you mean—that Jim is—out there too?” + </p> + <p> + “Jim and Aunt Selina!” I said as calmly as I could for joy. You can see + how it simplified the situation for me. “By this time they are a mile + away, and going!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody shook hands again except Bella. She had dropped into a chair, + and sat biting her lip and breathing hard, and she would not join in any + of the hilarity at getting rid of Aunt Selina. Finally she got up and + knocked over her chair. + </p> + <p> + “You are a lot of cowards,” she stormed. “You deserted them out there, + left them. Heaven knows where they are—a defenseless old woman, and—and + a man who did not even have an overcoat. And it is snowing!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” Dal said reassuringly. “He can borrow Aunt Selina’s comfort. + Make the old lady discard from weakness. Anyhow, Bella, if I know anything + of human nature, the old lady will make it hot enough for him. Poor old + Jim!” + </p> + <p> + Then they shook hands again, and with that there came a terrible banging + at the door, which we had locked. + </p> + <p> + “Open the door!” some one commanded. It was one of the guards. + </p> + <p> + “Open it yourself!” Dallas called, moving a kitchen table to reenforce the + lock. + </p> + <p> + “Open that door or we will break it in!” + </p> + <p> + Dallas put his hands in his pockets, seated himself on the table, and + whistled cheerfully. We could hear them conferring outside, and they made + another appeal which was refused. Suddenly Bella came over and confronted + Dallas. + </p> + <p> + “They have brought them back!” she said dramatically. “They are out there + now; I distinctly heard Jim’s voice. Open that door, Dallas!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, DON’T let them in!” I wailed. It was quite involuntary, but the + disappointment was too awful. “Dallas, DON’T open that door!” + </p> + <p> + Dal swung his feet and smiled from Bella to me. + </p> + <p> + “Think what a solution it is to all our difficulties,” he said easily. + “Without Aunt Selina I could be happy here indefinitely.” + </p> + <p> + There was more knocking, and somebody—Max, I think—said to let + them in, that it was a fool thing anyhow, and that he wanted to go to bed + and forget it; his feet were cold. And just then there was a crash, and + part of one of the windows fell in. The next blow from outside brought the + rest of the glass, and—somebody was coming through, feet first. It + was Jim. + </p> + <p> + He did not speak to any of us, but turned and helped in a bundle of red + and yellow silk comfort that proved to be Aunt Selina, also feet first. I + had a glimpse of a half-dozen heads outside, guards and reporters. Then + Jim jerked the shade down and unswathed Aunt Selina’s legs so that she + could walk, offered his arm, and stalked past us and upstairs, without a + word! + </p> + <p> + None of us spoke. We turned out the lights and went upstairs and took off + our wraps and went to bed. It had been almost a fiasco. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XV. SUSPICION AND DISCORD + </h2> + <p> + Every one was nasty the next morning. Aunt Selina declared that her feet + were frost-bitten and kept Bella rubbing them with ice water all morning. + And Jim was impossible. He refused to speak to any of us and he watched + Bella furtively, as if he suspected her of trying to get him out of the + house. + </p> + <p> + When luncheon time came around and he had shown no indication of going to + the telephone and ordering it, we had a conclave, and Max was chosen to + remind him of the hour. Jim was shut in the studio, and we waited together + in the hall while Max went up. When he came down he was somewhat ruffled. + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn’t open the door,” he reported, “and when I told him it was meal + time, he said he wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t give a whoop about the rest + of us. He had asked us here to dinner; he hadn’t proposed to adopt us.” + </p> + <p> + So we finally ordered luncheon ourselves, and about two o’clock Jim came + downstairs sheepishly, and ate what was left. Anne declared that Bella had + been scolding him in the upper hall, but I doubted it. She was never seen + to speak to him unnecessarily. + </p> + <p> + The excitement of the escape over, Mr. Harbison and I remained on terms of + armed neutrality. And Max still hunted for Anne’s pearls, using them, the + men declared, as a good excuse to avoid tinkering with the furnace or + repairing the dumb waiter, which took the queerest notions, and stopped + once, half-way up from the kitchen, for an hour, with the dinner on it. + Anyhow, Max was searching the house systematically, armed with a copy of + Poe’s Purloined Letter and Gaboriau’s Monsieur LeCoq. He went through the + seats of the chairs with hatpins, tore up the beds, and lifted rugs, until + the house was in a state of confusion. And the next day, the fourth, he + found something—not much, but it was curious. He had been in the + studio, poking around behind the dusty pictures, with Jimmy expostulating + every time he moved anything and the rest standing around watching him. + </p> + <p> + Max was strutting. + </p> + <p> + “We get it by elimination,” he said importantly. “The pearls being nowhere + else in the house, they must be here in the studio. Three parts of the + studio having yielded nothing, they must be in the fourth. Ladies and + gentlemen, let me have your attention for one moment. I tap this canvas + with my wand—there is nothing up my sleeve. Then I prepare to move + the canvas—so. And I put my hand in the pocket of this disreputable + velvet coat, so. Behold!” + </p> + <p> + Then he gave a low exclamation and looked at something he held in his + hand. Every one stepped forward, and on his palm was the small diamond + clasp from Anne’s collar! + </p> + <p> + Jimmy was apoplectic. He tried to smile, but no one else did. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll be flabbergasted!” he said. “I say, you people, you don’t + think for a minute that I put that thing there? Why, I haven’t worn that + coat for a month. It’s—it’s a trick of yours, Max.” + </p> + <p> + But Max shook his head; he looked stupefied, and stood gazing from the + clasp to the pocket of the old painting coat. Betty dropped on a folding + stool, that promptly collapsed with her and created a welcome diversion, + while Anne pounced on the clasp greedily, with a little cry. + </p> + <p> + “We will find it all now,” she said excitedly. “Did you look in the other + pockets, Max?” + </p> + <p> + Then, for the first time, I was conscious of an air of constraint among + the men. Dallas was whistling softly, and Mr. Harbison, having rescued + Betty, was standing silent and aloof, watching the scene with + non-committal eyes. It was Max who spoke first, after a hurried inventory + of the other pockets. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing else,” he said constrainedly. “I’ll move the rest of the + canvases.” + </p> + <p> + But Jim interfered, to every one’s surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t, if I were you, Max. There’s nothing back there. I had ‘em out + yesterday.” He was quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” Max said gruffly. “If it’s a practical joke, Jim, why don’t + you fess up? Anne has worried enough.” + </p> + <p> + “The pearls are not there, I tell you,” Jim began. Although the studio was + cold, there were little fine beads of moisture on his face. “I must ask + you not to move those pictures.” And then Aunt Selina came to the rescue; + she stalked over and stood with her back against the stack of canvases. + </p> + <p> + “As far as I can understand this,” she declaimed, “you gentlemen are + trying to intimate that James knows something of that young woman’s + jewelry, because you found part of it in his pocket. Certainly you will + not move the pictures. How do you know that the young gentleman who said + he found it there didn’t have it up his sleeve?” + </p> + <p> + She looked around triumphantly, and Max glowered. Dallas soothed her, + however. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” he said. “How do we know that Max didn’t have the clasp up + his sleeve? My dear lady, neither my wife nor I care anything for the + pearls, as compared with the priceless pearl of peace. I suggest tea on + the roof; those in favor—? My arm, Miss Caruthers.” + </p> + <p> + It was all well enough for Jim to say later that he didn’t dare to have + the canvases moved, for he had stuck behind them all sorts of chorus girl + photographs and life-class crayons that were not for Aunt Selina’s eye, + besides four empty siphons, two full ones, and three bottles of whisky. + Not a soul believed him; there was a a new element of suspicion and + discord in the house. + </p> + <p> + Every one went up on the roof and left him to his mystery. Anne drank her + tea in a preoccupied silence, with half-closed eyes, an attitude that + boded ill to somebody. The rest were feverishly gay, and Aunt Selina, with + a pair of arctics on her feet and a hot-water bottle at her back, sat in + the middle of the tent and told me familiar anecdotes of Jimmy’s early + youth (had he known, he would have slain her). Betty and Mr. Harbison had + found a medicine ball, and were running around like a pair of children. It + was quite certain that neither his escape from death nor my accusation + weighed heavily on him. + </p> + <p> + While Aunt Selina was busy with the time Jim had swallowed an open safety + pin, and just as the pin had been coughed up, or taken out of his nose—I + forget which—Jim himself appeared and sulkily demanded the privacy + of the roof for his training hour. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he was training. Flannigan claimed to know the system that had + reduced the president to what he is, and he and Jim had a seance every day + which left Jim feeling himself for bruises all evening. He claimed to be + losing flesh; he said he could actually feel it going, and he and + Flannigan had spent an entire afternoon in the cellar three days before + with a potato barrel, a cane-seated chair and a lamp. + </p> + <p> + The whole thing had been shrouded in mystery. They sandpapered the inside + of the barrel and took out all the nails, and when they had finished they + carried it to the roof and put it in a corner behind the tent. Everybody + was curious, but Flannigan refused any information about it, and merely + said it was part of his system. Dal said that if HE had anything like that + in his system he certainly would be glad to get rid of it. + </p> + <p> + At a quarter to six Jim appeared, still sullen from the events of the + afternoon and wearing a dressing gown and a pair of slippers, Flannigan + following him with a sponge, a bucket of water and an armful of bath + towels. Everybody protested at having to move, but he was firm, and they + all filed down the stairs. I was the last, with Aunt Selina just ahead of + me. At the top of the stairs, she turned around suddenly to me. + </p> + <p> + “That policeman looks cruel,” she said. “What’s more, he’s been in a bad + humor all day. More than likely he’ll put James flat on the roof and tramp + on him, under pretense of training him. All policemen are inhuman.” + </p> + <p> + “He only rolls him over a barrel or something like that,” I protested. + </p> + <p> + “James had a bump like an egg over his ear last night,” Aunt Selina + insisted, glaring at Flannigan’s unconscious back. “I don’t think it’s + safe to leave him. It is my time to relax for thirty minutes, or I would + watch him. You will have to stay,” she said, fixing me with her imperious + eyes. + </p> + <p> + So I stayed. Jim didn’t want me, and Flannigan muttered mutiny. But it was + easier to obey Aunt Selina than to clash with her, and anyhow I wanted to + see the barrel in use. + </p> + <p> + I never saw any one train before. It is not a joyful spectacle. First, + Flannigan made Jim run, around and around the roof. He said it stirred up + his food and brought it in contact with his liver, to be digested. + </p> + <p> + Flannigan, from meekness and submission, of a sort, in the kitchen, became + an autocrat on the roof. + </p> + <p> + “Once more,” he would say. “Pick up your feet, sir! Pick up your feet!” + </p> + <p> + And Jim would stagger doggedly past me, where I sat on the parapet, his + poor cheeks shaking and the tail of his bath robe wrapping itself around + his legs. Yes, he ran in the bath robe in deference to me. It seems there + isn’t much to a running suit. + </p> + <p> + “Head up,” Flannigan would say. “Lift your knees, sir. Didn’t you ever see + a horse with string halt?” + </p> + <p> + He let him stop finally, and gave him a moment to get his breath. Then he + set him to turning somersaults. They spread the cushions from the couch in + the tent on the roof, and Jim would poke his head down and say a prayer, + and then curve over as gracefully as a sausage and come up gasping, as if + he had been pushed off a boat. + </p> + <p> + “Five pounds a day; not less, sir,” Flannigan said encouragingly. “You’ll + drop it in chunks.” + </p> + <p> + Jim looked at the tin as if he expected to see the chunks lying at his + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, wiping the back of his neck. “If we’re in here thirty days + that will be one hundred and fifty pounds. Don’t forget to stop in time, + Flannigan. I don’t want to melt away like a candle.” + </p> + <p> + He was cheered, however, by the promise of reduction. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that, Kit?” he called to me. “Your uncle is going to + look as angular as a problem in geometry. I’ll—I’ll be the original + reductio ad absurdum. Do you want me to stand on my head, Flannigan? + Wouldn’t that reduce something?” + </p> + <p> + “Your brains, sir,” Flannigan retorted gravely, and presented a pair of + boxing gloves. Jim visibly quailed, but he put them on. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Flannigan,” he remarked, as he fastened them, “I’m thinking + of wearing these all the time. They hide my character.” + </p> + <p> + Flannigan looked puzzled, but he did not ask an explanation. He demanded + that Jim shed the bath robe, which he finally did, on my promise to watch + the sunset. Then for fully a minute there was no sound save of feet + running rapidly around the roof, and an occasional soft thud. Each thud + was accompanied by a grunt or two from Jim. Flannigan was grimly silent. + Once there was a smart rap, an oath from the policeman, and a mirthless + chuckle from Jim. The chuckle ended in a crash, however, and I turned. Jim + was lying on his back on the roof, and Flannigan was wiping his ear with a + towel. Jim sat up and ran his hand down his ribs. + </p> + <p> + “They’re all here,” he observed after a minute. “I thought I missed one.” + </p> + <p> + “The only way to take a man’s weight down,” Flannigan said dryly. + </p> + <p> + Jim got up dizzily. + </p> + <p> + “Down on the roof, I suppose you mean,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The next proceedings were mysterious. Flannigan rolled the barrel into the + tent, and carried in a small glass lamp. With the material at hand he + seemed to be effecting a combination, no new one, to judge by his + facility. Then he called Jim. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the tent Jim turned to me, his bathrobe toga fashion around + his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “This is a very essential part of the treatment,” he said solemnly. “The + exercise, according to Flannigan, loosens up the adipose tissue. The next + step is to boil it out. I hope, unless your instructions compel you, that + you will at least have the decency to stay out of the tent.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going at once,” I said, outraged. “I’m not here because I’m mad + about it, and you know it. And don’t pose with that bath robe. If you + think you’re a character out of Roman history, look at your legs.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said sulkily. “Only I’m tired of having + you choked down my throat every time I open my mouth, Kit. And don’t go + just yet. Flannigan is going for my clothes as soon as he lights the—the + lamp, and—somebody ought to watch the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + That was all there was to it. I said I would guard the steps, and + Flannigan, having ignited the combination, whatever it was, went + downstairs. How was I to know that Bella would come up when she did? Was + it my fault that the lamp got too high, and that Flannigan couldn’t hear + Jim calling? Or that just as Bella reached the top of the steps Jim should + come to the door of the tent, wearing the barrel part of his hot-air + cabinet, and yelling for a doctor? + </p> + <p> + Bella came to a dead stop on the upper step, with her mouth open. She + looked at Jim, at the inadequate barrel, and from them she looked at me. + Then she began to laugh, one of her hysterical giggles, and she turned and + went down again. As Jim and I stared at each other we could hear her + gurgling down the hall below. + </p> + <p> + She had violent hysterics for an hour, with Anne rubbing her forehead and + Aunt Selina burning a feather out of the feather duster under her nose. + Only Jim and I understood, and we did not tell. Luckily, the next thing + that occurred drove Bella and her nerves from everybody’s mind. + </p> + <p> + At seven o’clock, when Bella had dropped asleep and everybody else was + dressed for dinner, Aunt Selina discovered that the house was cold, and + ordered Dal to the furnace. + </p> + <p> + It was Dal’s day at the furnace; Flannigan had been relieved of that part + of the work after twice setting fire to a chimney. + </p> + <p> + In five minutes Dal came back and spoke a few words to Max, who followed + him to the basement, and in ten minutes more Flannigan puffed up the steps + and called Mr. Harbison. + </p> + <p> + I am not curious, but I knew that something had happened. While Aunt + Selina was talking suffrage to Anne—who said she had always been + tremendously interested in the subject, and if women got the suffrage + would they be allowed to vote?—I slipped back to the dining room. + </p> + <p> + The table was laid for dinner, but Flannigan was not in sight. I could + hear voices from somewhere, faint voices that talked rapidly, and after a + while I located the sounds under my feet. The men were all in the + basement, and something must have happened. I flew back to the basement + stairs, to meet Mr. Harbison at the foot. He was grimy and dusty, with + streaks of coal dust over his face, and he had been examining his + revolver. I was just in time to see him slip it into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” I demanded. “Is any one hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “No one,” he said coolly. “We’ve been cleaning out the furnace.” + </p> + <p> + “With a revolver! How interesting—and unusual!” I said dryly, and + slipped past him as he barred the way. He was not pleased; I heard him + mutter something and come rapidly after me, but I had the voices as a + guide, and I was not going to be turned back like a child. The men had + gathered around a low stone arch in the furnace room, and were looking + down a short flight of steps, into a sort of vault, evidently under the + pavement. A faint light came from a small grating above, and there was a + close, musty smell in the air. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it must have been last night,” Dallas was saying. “Wilson and + I were here before we went to bed, and I’ll swear that hole was not there + then.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not there this morning, sir,” Flannigan insisted. “It has been + made during the day.” + </p> + <p> + “And it could not have been done this afternoon,” Mr. Harbison said + quietly. “I was fussing with the telephone wire down here. I would have + heard the noise.” + </p> + <p> + Something in his voice made me look at him, and certainly his expression + was unusual. He was watching us all intently while Dallas pointed out to + me the cause of the excitement. From the main floor of the furnace room, a + flight of stone steps surmounted by an arch led into the coal cellar, + beneath the street. The coal cellar was of brick, with a cement floor, and + in the left wall there gaped an opening about three feet by three, leading + into a cavernous void, perfectly black—evidently a similar vault + belonging to the next house. + </p> + <p> + The whole place was ghostly, full of shadows, shivery with possibilities. + It was Mr. Harbison finally who took Jim’s candle and crawled through the + aperture. We waited in dead silence, listening to his feet crunching over + the coal beyond, watching the faint yellow light that came through the + ragged opening in the wall. Then he came back and called through to us. + </p> + <p> + “Place is locked, over here,” he said. “Heavy oak door at the head of the + steps. Whoever made that opening has done a prodigious amount of labor for + nothing.” + </p> + <p> + The weapon, a crowbar, lay on the ground beside the bricks, and he picked + it up and balanced it on his hand. Dallas’ florid face was almost comical + in his bewilderment; as for Jimmy—he slammed a piece of slag at the + furnace and walked away. At the door he turned around. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you accuse me of it?” he asked bitterly. “Maybe you could find + a lump of coal in my pockets if you searched me.” + </p> + <p> + He stalked up the stairs then and left us. Dallas and I went up together, + but we did not talk. There seemed to be nothing to say. Not until I had + closed and locked the door of my room did I venture to look at something + that I carried in the palm of my hand. It was a watch, not running—a + gentleman’s flat gold watch, and it had been hanging by its fob to a nail + in the bricks beside the aperture. + </p> + <p> + In the back of the watch were the initials, T.H.H. and the picture of a + girl, cut from a newspaper. + </p> + <p> + It was my picture. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XVI. I FACE FLANNIGAN + </h2> + <p> + Dinner waited that night while everybody went to the coal cellar and + stared at the hole in the wall, and watched while Max took a tracing of it + and of some footprints in the coal dust on the other side. + </p> + <p> + I did not go. I went into the library with the guilty watch in the fold of + my gown, and found Mr. Harbison there, staring through the February gloom + at the blank wall of the next house, and quite unconscious of the reporter + with a drawing pad just below him in the area-way. I went over and closed + the shutters before his very eyes, but even then he did not move. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be good enough to turn around?” I demanded at last. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said wheeling. “Are YOU here?” + </p> + <p> + There wasn’t any reply to that, so I took the watch and placed it on the + library table between us. The effect was all that I had hoped. He stared + at it for an instant, then at me, and with his hand outstretched for it, + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you find it?” he asked. I couldn’t understand his expression. + He looked embarrassed, but not at all afraid. + </p> + <p> + “I think you know, Mr. Harbison,” I retorted. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I did. You opened it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + We stood looking at each other across the table. It was his glance that + wavered. + </p> + <p> + “About the picture—of you,” he said at last. “You see, down there in + South America, a fellow hasn’t much to do in the evenings, and a—a + chum of mine and I—we were awfully down on what we called the + plutocrats, the—the leisure classes. And when that picture of yours + came in the paper, we had—we had an argument. He said—” He + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he said it was the picture of an empty-faced society girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I—I maintained there were possibilities in the face.” He put both + hands on the table, and, bending forward, looked down at me. “Well, I was + a fool, I admit. I said your eyes were kind and candid, in spite of that + haughty mouth. You see, I said I was a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are exceedingly rude,” I managed finally. “If you want to + know where I found your watch, it was down in the coal cellar. And if you + admit you are an idiot, I am not. I—I know all about Bella’s + bracelet—and the board on the roof, and—oh, if you would only + leave—Anne’s necklace—on the coal, or somewhere—and get + away—” + </p> + <p> + My voice got beyond me then, and I dropped into a chair and covered my + face. I could feel him staring at the back of my head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll be—” something or other, he said finally, and then he + turned on his heel and went out. By the time I got my eyes dry (yes, I was + crying; I always do when I am angry) I heard Jim coming downstairs, and I + tucked the watch out of sight. Would anyone have foreseen the trouble that + watch would make! + </p> + <p> + Jim was sulky. He dropped into a chair and stretched out his legs, looking + gloomily at nothing. Then he got up and ambled into his den, closing the + door behind him without having spoken a word. It was more than human + nature could stand. + </p> + <p> + When I went into the den he was stretched on the davenport with his face + buried in the cushions. He looked absolutely wilted, and every line of him + was drooping. + </p> + <p> + “Go on out, Kit,” he said, in a smothered voice. “Be a good girl and don’t + follow me around.” + </p> + <p> + “You are shameless!” I gasped. “Follow you! When you are hung around my + neck like a—like a—” Millstone was what I wanted to say, but I + couldn’t think of it. + </p> + <p> + He turned over and looked up from his cushions like an ill-treated and + suffering cherub. + </p> + <p> + “I’m done for, Kit,” he groaned. “Bella went up to the studio after we + left, and investigated that corner.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she find? The necklace?” I asked eagerly. He was too wretched to + notice this. + </p> + <p> + “No, that picture of you that I did last winter. She is crazy—she + says she is going upstairs and sit in Takahiro’s room and take smallpox + and die.” + </p> + <p> + “Fiddlesticks!” I said rudely, and somebody hammered on the door and + opened it. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me for disturbing you,” Bella said, in her best + dear-me-I’m-glad-I-knocked manner. “But—Flannigan says the dinner + has not come.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” Jim exclaimed. “I forgot to order the confounded dinner!” + </p> + <p> + It was eight o’clock by that time, and as it took an hour at least after + telephoning the order, everybody looked blank when they heard. The entire + family, except Mr. Harbison, who had not appeared again, escorted Jim to + the telephone and hung around hungrily, suggesting new dishes every + minute. And then—he couldn’t raise Central. It was fifteen minutes + before we gave up, and stood staring at one another despairingly. + </p> + <p> + “Call out of a window, and get one of those infernal reporters to do + something useful for once,” Max suggested. But he was indignantly hushed. + We would have starved first. Jim was peering into the transmitter and + knocking the receiver against his hand, like a watch that had stopped. But + nothing happened. Flannigan reported a box of breakfast food, two lemons, + and a pineapple cheese, a combination that didn’t seem to lend itself to + anything. + </p> + <p> + We went back to the dining room from sheer force of habit and sat around + the table and looked at the lemonade Flannigan had made. Anne WOULD talk + about the salad her last cook had concocted, and Max told about a little + town in Connecticut where the restaurant keeper smokes a corn-cob pipe + while he cooks the most luscious fried clams in America. And Aunt Selina + related that in her family they had a recipe for chicken smothered in + cream. And then we sipped the weak lemonade and nibbled at the cheese. + </p> + <p> + “To change this gridiron martyrdom,” Dallas said finally, “where’s + Harbison? Still looking for his watch?” + </p> + <p> + “Watch!” Everybody said it in a different tone. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” he responded. “Says his watch was taken last night from the + studio. Better get him down to take a squint at the telephone. Likely he + can fix it.” + </p> + <p> + Flannigan was beside me with the cheese. And at that moment I felt Mr. + Harbison’s stolen watch slip out of my girdle, slide greasily across my + lap, and clatter to the floor. Flannigan stooped, but luckily it had gone + under the table. To have had it picked up, to have had to explain how I + got it, to see them try to ignore my picture pasted in it—oh, it was + impossible! I put my foot over it. + </p> + <p> + “Drop something?” Dallas asked perfunctorily, rising. Flannigan was still + half kneeling. + </p> + <p> + “A fork,” I said, as easily as I could, and the conversation went on. But + Flannigan knew, and I knew he knew. He watched my every movement like a + hawk after that, standing just behind my chair. I dropped my useless + napkin, to have it whirled up before it reached the floor. I said to Betty + that my shoe buckle was loose, and actually got the watch in my hand, only + to let it slip at the critical moment. Then they all got up and went sadly + back to the library, and Flannigan and I faced each other. + </p> + <p> + Flannigan was not a handsome man at any time, though up to then he had at + least looked amiable. But now as I stood with my hand on the back of my + chair, his face grew suddenly menacing. The silence was absolute. I was + the guiltiest wretch alive, and opposite me the law towered and glowered, + and held the yellow remnant of a pineapple cheese! And in the silence that + wretched watch lay and ticked and ticked and ticked. Then Flannigan + creaked over and closed the door into the hall, came back, picked up the + watch, and looked at it. + </p> + <p> + “You’re unlucky, I’m thinkin’,” he said finally. “You’ve got the nerve all + right, but you ain’t cute enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what you mean,” I quavered. “Give me that watch to return to + Mr. Harbison.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on your life,” he retorted easily. “I give it back myself, like I did + the bracelet, and—like I’m going to give back the necklace, if + you’ll act like a sensible little girl.” + </p> + <p> + I could only choke. + </p> + <p> + “It’s foolish, any way you look at it,” he persisted. “Here you are, lots + of friends, folks that think you’re all right. Why, I reckon there isn’t + one of them that wouldn’t lend you money if you needed it so bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be still?” I said furiously. “Mr. Harbison left that watch—with + me—an hour ago. Get him, and he will tell you so himself!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he would,” Flannigan conceded, looking at me with grudging + approval. “He wouldn’t be what I think he is, if he didn’t lie up and down + for you.” There were voices in the hall. Flannigan came closer. “An hour + ago, you say. And he told me it was gone this morning! It’s a losing game, + miss. I’ll give you twenty-four hours and then—the necklace, if you + please, miss.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XVII. A CLASH AND A KISS + </h2> + <p> + The clash that came that evening had been threatening for some time. Take + an immovable body, represented by Mr. Harbison and his square jaw, and an + irresistible force, Jimmy and his weight, and there is bound to be + trouble. + </p> + <p> + The real fault was Jim’s. He had gone entirely mad again over Bella, and + thrown prudence to the winds. He mooned at her across the dinner table, + and waylaid her on the stairs or in the back halls, just to hear her voice + when she ordered him out of her way. He telephoned for flowers and candy + for her quite shamelessly, and he got out a book of photographs that they + had taken on their wedding journey, and kept it on the library table. The + sole concession he made to our presumptive relationship was to bring me + the responsibility for everything that went wrong, and his shirts for + buttons. + </p> + <p> + The first I heard of the trouble was from Dal. He waylaid me in the hall + after dinner that night, and his face was serious. + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid we can’t keep it up very long, Kit,” he said. “With Jim + trailing Bella all over the house, and the old lady keener every day, it’s + bound to come out somehow. And that isn’t all. Jim and Harbison had a + set-to today—about you.” + </p> + <p> + “About me!” I repeated. “Oh, I dare say I have been falling short again. + What was Jim doing? Abusing me?” + </p> + <p> + Dal looked cautiously over his shoulder, but no one was near. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that the gentle Bella has been unusually beastly today to Jim, + and—I believe she’s jealous of you, Kit. Jim followed her up to the + roof before dinner with a box of flowers, and she tossed them over the + parapet. She said, I believe, that she didn’t want his flowers; he could + buy them for you, and be damned to him, or some lady-like equivalent.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim is a jellyfish,” I said contemptuously. “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “He said he only cared for one woman, and that was Bella; that he never + had really cared for you and never would, and that divorce courts were not + unmitigated evils if they showed people the way to real happiness. Which + wouldn’t amount to anything if Harbison had not been in the tent, trying + to sleep!” + </p> + <p> + Dal did not know all the particulars, but it seems that relations between + Jim and Mr. Harbison were rather strained. Bella had left the roof and Jim + and the Harbison man came face to face in the door of the tent. According + to Dal, little had been said, but Jim, bound by his promise to me, could + not explain, and could only stammer something about being an old friend of + Miss Knowles. And Tom had replied shortly that it was none of his + business, but that there were some things friendship hardly justified, and + tried to pass Jim. Jim was instantly enraged; he blocked the door to the + roof and demanded to know what the other man meant. There were two or + three versions of the answer he got. The general purport was that Mr. + Harbison had no desire to explain further, and that the situation was + forced on him. But if he insisted—when a man systematically ignored + and neglected his wife for some one else, there were communities where he + would be tarred and feathered. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning me?” Jim demanded, apoplectic. + </p> + <p> + “The remark was a general one,” Mr. Harbison retorted, “but if you wish to + make a concrete application—!” + </p> + <p> + Dal had gone up just then, and found them glaring at each other, Jim with + his hands clenched at his sides, and Mr. Harbison with his arms folded and + very erect. Dal took Jim by the elbow and led him downstairs, muttering, + and the situation was saved for the time. But Dal was not optimistic. + </p> + <p> + “You can do a bit yourself, Kit,” he finished. “Look more cheerful, flirt + a little. You can do that without trying. Take Max on for a day or so; it + would be charity anyhow. But don’t let Tom Harbison take into his head + that you are grieving over Jim’s neglect, or he’s likely to toss him off + the roof.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no reason to think that Mr. Harbison cares one way or the other + about me,” I said primly. “You don’t think he’s—he’s in love with + me, do you, Dal?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye, but he only + looked amused. + </p> + <p> + “In love with you!” he repeated. “Why bless your wicked little heart, no! + He thinks you’re a married woman! It’s the principle of the thing he’s + fighting for. If I had as much principle as he has, I’d—I’d put it + out at interest.” + </p> + <p> + Max interrupted us just then, and asked if we knew where Mr. Harbison was. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t find him,” he said. “I’ve got the telephone together and have + enough left over to make another. Where do you suppose Harbison hides the + tools? I’m working with a corkscrew and two palette knives.” + </p> + <p> + I heard nothing more of the trouble that night. Max went to Jim about it, + and Jim said angrily that only a fool would interfere between a man and + his wife—wives. Whereupon Max retorted that a fool and his wives + were soon parted, and left him. The two principals were coldly civil to + each other, and smaller issues were lost as the famine grew more and more + insistent. For famine it was. + </p> + <p> + They worked the rest of the evening, but the telephone refused to revive + and every one was starving. Individually our pride was at low ebb, but + collectively it was still formidable. So we sat around and Jim played + Grieg with the soft stops on, and Aunt Selina went to bed. The weather had + changed, and it was sleeting, but anything was better than the drawing + room. I was in a mood to battle with the elements or to cry—or both—so + I slipped out, while Dal was reciting “Give me three grains of corn, + mother,” threw somebody’s overcoat over my shoulders, put on a man’s soft + hat—Jim’s I think—and went up to the roof. + </p> + <p> + It was dark in the third floor hall, and I had to feel my way to the foot + of the stairs. I went up quietly, and turned the knob of the door to the + roof. At first it would not open, and I could hear the wind howling + outside. Finally, however, I got the door open a little and wormed my way + through. It was not entirely dark out there, in spite of the storm. A + faint reflection of the street lights made it possible to distinguish the + outlines of the boxwood plants, swaying in the wind, and the chimneys and + the tent. And then—a dark figure disentangled itself from the + nearest chimney and seemed to hurl itself at me. I remember putting out my + hands and trying to say something, but the figure caught me roughly by the + shoulders and knocked me back against the door frame. From miles away a + heavy voice was saying, “So I’ve got you!” and then the roof gave from + under me, and I was floating out on the storm, and sleet was beating in my + face, and the wind was whispering over and over, “Open your eyes, for + God’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + I did open them after a while, and finally I made out that I was laying on + the floor in the tent. The lights were on, and I had a cold and damp + feeling, and something wet was trickling down my neck. + </p> + <p> + I seemed to be alone, but in a second somebody came into the tent, and I + saw it was Mr. Harbison, and that he had a double handful of half-melted + snow. He looked frantic and determined, and only my sitting up quickly + prevented my getting another snow bath. My neck felt queer and stiff, and + I was very dizzy. When he saw that I was conscious he dropped the snow and + stood looking down at me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said grimly, “that I very nearly choked you to death a + little while ago?” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t surprise me to be told so,” I said. “Do I know too much, or + what is it, Mr. Harbison?” I felt terribly ill, but I would not let him + see it. “It is queer, isn’t it—how we always select the roof for our + little—differences?” He seemed to relax somewhat at my gibe. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know it was you,” he explained shortly. “I was waiting for—some + one, and in the hat you wore and the coat, I mistook you. That’s all. Can + you stand?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I retorted. I could, but his summary manner displeased me. The + sequel, however, was rather amazing, for he stooped suddenly and picked me + up, and the next instant we were out in the storm together. At the door he + stooped and felt for the knob. + </p> + <p> + “Turn it,” he commanded. “I can’t reach it.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do nothing of the kind,” I said shrewishly. “Let me down; I can walk + perfectly well.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. Then he slid me slowly to my feet, but he did not open the + door at once. “Are you afraid to let me carry you down those stairs, after—Tuesday + night?” he asked, very low. “You still think I did that?” + </p> + <p> + I had never been less sure of it than at that moment, but an imp of + perversity made me retort, “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + He hardly seemed to hear me. He stood looking down at me as I leaned + against the door frame. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he groaned. “To think that I might have killed you!” And then—he + stooped and suddenly kissed me. + </p> + <p> + The next moment the door was open, and he was leading me down into the + house. At the foot of the staircase he paused, still holding my hand, and + faced me in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not sorry,” he said steadily. “I suppose I ought to be, but I’m not. + Only—I want you to know that I was not guilty—before. I didn’t + intend to now. I am—almost as much surprised as you are.” + </p> + <p> + I was quite unable to speak, but I wrenched my hand loose. He stepped back + to let me pass, and I went down the hall alone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XVIII. IT’S ALL MY FAULT + </h2> + <p> + I didn’t go to the drawing room again. I went into my own room and sat in + the dark, and tried to be furiously angry, and only succeeded in feeling + queer and tingly. One thing was absolutely certain: not the same man, but + two different men had kissed me on the stairs to the roof. It sounds + rather horrid and discriminating, but there was all the difference in the + world. + </p> + <p> + But then—who had? And for whom had Mr. Harbison been waiting on the + roof? “Did you know that I nearly choked you to death a few minutes ago?” + Then he rather expected to finish somebody in that way! Who? Jim, + probably. It was strange, too, but suddenly I realized that no matter how + many suspicious things I mustered up against him—and there were + plenty—down in my heart I didn’t believe him guilty of anything, + except this last and unforgivable offense. Whoever was trying to leave the + house had taken the necklace, that seemed clear, unless Max was still + foolishly trying to break quarantine and create one of the sensations he + so dearly loves. This was a new idea, and some things upheld it, but Max + had been playing bridge when I was kissed on the stairs, and there was + still left that ridiculous incident of the comfort. + </p> + <p> + Bella came up after I had gone to bed, and turned on the light to brush + her hair. + </p> + <p> + “If I don’t leave this mausoleum soon, I’ll be carried out,” she declared. + “You in bed, Lollie Mercer and Dal flirting, Anne hysterical, and Jim + making his will in the den! You will have to take Aunt Selina tonight, + Kit; I’m all in.” + </p> + <p> + “If you’ll put her to bed, I’ll keep her there,” I conceded, after some + parley. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a dear.” Bella came back from the door. “Look here, Kit, you know + Jim pretty well. Don’t you think he looks ill? Thinner?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a wreck,” I said soberly. “You have a lot to answer for, Bella.” + </p> + <p> + Bella went over to the cheval glass and looked in it. “I avoid him all I + can,” she said, posing. “He’s awfully funny; he’s so afraid I’ll think + he’s serious about you. He can’t realize that for me he simply doesn’t + exist.” + </p> + <p> + Well, I took Aunt Selina, and about two o’clock, while I was in my first + sleep, I woke to find her standing beside me, tugging at my arm. + </p> + <p> + “There’s somebody in the house,” she whispered. “Thieves!” + </p> + <p> + “If they’re in they’ll not get out tonight,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I saw a man skulking on the stairs,” she insisted. + </p> + <p> + I got up ungraciously enough, and put on my dressing gown. Aunt Selina, + who had her hair in crimps, tied a veil over her head, and together we + went to the head of the stairs. Aunt Selina leaned far over and peered + down. + </p> + <p> + “He’s in the library,” she whispered. “I can see a light.” + </p> + <p> + The lust of battle was in Aunt Selina’s eye. She girded her robe about her + and began to descend the stairs cautiously. We went through the hall and + stopped at the library door. It was empty, but from the den beyond came a + hum of voices and the cheerful glow of fire light. I realized the + situation then, but it was too late. + </p> + <p> + “Then why did you kiss her in the dining room?” Bella was saying in her + clear, high tones. “You did, didn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “It was only her hand,” Jim, desperately explaining. “I’ve got to pay her + some attention, under the circumstances. And I give you my word, I was + thinking of you when I did it.” THE WRETCH! + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina drew her breath in suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking of marrying Reggie Wolfe.” This was Bella, of course. “He + wants me to. He’s a dear boy.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do, I will kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am so very lonely,” Bella sighed. We could hear the creak of Jim’s + shirt bosom that showed that he had sighed also. Aunt Selina had gripped + me by the arm, and I could hear her breathing hard beside me. + </p> + <p> + “It’s only Jim,” I whispered. “I—I don’t want to hear any more.” + </p> + <p> + But she clutched me firmly, and the next thing we heard was another creak, + louder and— + </p> + <p> + “Get up! Get up off your knees this instant!” Bella was saying + frantically. “Some one might come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t send me away,” Jim said in a smothered voice. “Every one in the + house is asleep, and I love you, dear.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina swallowed hard in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “You have no right to make love to me,” Bella. “It’s—it’s highly + improper, under the circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + And then Jim: “You swallow a camel and stick at a gnat. Why did you meet + me here, if you didn’t expect me to make love to you? I’ve stood for a + lot, Bella, but this foolishness will have to end. Either you love me—or + you don’t. I’m desperate.” He drew a long, forlorn breath. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Jim!” This was Bella. A pause. Then—“Let my hand alone!” + Also Bella. + </p> + <p> + “It is MY hand!”—Jim’s most fatuous tone. “THERE is where you wore + my ring. There’s the mark still.” Sounds of Jim kissing Bella’s ring + finger. “What did you do with it? Throw it away?” More sounds. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina crossed the library swiftly, and again I followed. Bella was + sitting in a low chair by the fire, looking at the logs, in the most + exquisite negligee of pink chiffon and ribbon. Jim was on his knees, + staring at her adoringly, and holding both her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you a secret,” Bella was saying, looking as coy as she knew how—which + was considerable. “I—I still wear it, on a chain around my neck.” + </p> + <p> + On a chain around her neck! Bella, who is decollete whenever it is + allowable, and more than is proper! + </p> + <p> + That was the limit of Aunt Selina’s endurance. Still holding me, she + stepped through the doorway and into the firelight, a fearful figure. + </p> + <p> + Jim saw her first. He went quite white and struggled to get up, smiling a + sickly smile. Bella, after her first surprise, was superbly indifferent. + She glanced at us, raised her eyebrows, and then looked at the clock. + </p> + <p> + “More victims of insomnia!” she said. “Won’t you come in? Jim, pull up a + chair by the fire for your aunt.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina opened her mouth twice, like a fish, before she could speak. + Then— + </p> + <p> + “James, I demand that that woman leave the house!” she said hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + Bella leaned back and yawned. + </p> + <p> + “James, shall I go?” she asked amiably. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” Jim said, pulling himself together as best he could. “Look + here, Aunt Selina, you know she can’t go out, and what’s more, I—don’t + want her to go.” + </p> + <p> + “You—what?” Aunt Selina screeched, taking a step forward. “You have + the audacity to say such a thing to me!” + </p> + <p> + Bella leaned over and gave the fire log a punch. + </p> + <p> + “I was just saying that he shouldn’t say such things to me, either,” she + remarked pleasantly. “I’m afraid you’ll take cold, Miss Caruthers. + Wouldn’t you like a hot sherry flip?” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina gasped. Then she sat down heavily on one of the carved + teakwood chairs. + </p> + <p> + “He said he loved you; I heard him,” she said weakly. “He—he was + going to put his arm around you!” + </p> + <p> + “Habit!” Jim put in, trying to smile. “You see, Aunt Selina, it’s—well, + it’s a habit I got into some time ago, and I—my arm does it without + my thinking about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Habit!” Aunt Selina repeated, her voice thick with passion. Then she + turned to me. “Go to your room at once!” she said in her most awful tone. + “Go to your room and leave this—this shocking affair to me.” + </p> + <p> + But if she had reached her limit, so had I. If Jim chose to ruin himself, + it was not my fault. Any one with common sense would have known at least + to close the door before he went down on his knees, no matter to whom. So + when Aunt Selina turned on me and pointed in the direction of the + staircase, I did not move. + </p> + <p> + “I am perfectly wide awake,” I said coldly. “I shall go to bed when I am + entirely ready, and not before. And as for Jim’s conduct, I do not know + much about the conventions in such cases, but if he wishes to embrace Miss + Knowles, and she wants him to, the situation is interesting, but hardly + novel.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina rose slowly and drew the folds of her dressing gown around + her, away from the contamination of my touch. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what you are saying?” she demanded hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “I do.” I was quite white and stiff from my knees up, but below I was + wavery. I glanced at Jim for moral support, but he was looking + idolatrously at Bella. As for her, quite suddenly she had dropped her mask + of indifference; her face was strained and anxious, and there were deep + circles I had not seen before, under her eyes. And it was Bella who + finally threw herself into the breach—the family breach. + </p> + <p> + “It is all my fault, Miss Caruthers,” she said, stepping between Aunt + Selina and myself. “I have been a blind and wicked woman, and I have + almost wrecked two lives.” + </p> + <p> + Two! What of mine? + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she struggled on, against the glint in Aunt Selina’s eyes. “I—I + did not realize how much I cared, until it was too late. I did so many + things that were cruel and wrong—oh, Jim, Jim!” + </p> + <p> + She turned and buried her head on his shoulder and cried; real tears. I + could hardly believe that it was Bella. And Jim put both his arms around + her and almost cried, too, and looked nauseatingly happy with the eye he + turned to Bella, and scared to death out of the one he kept on Aunt + Selina. + </p> + <p> + She turned on me, as of course I knew she would. + </p> + <p> + “That,” she said, pointing at Jim and Bella, “that shameful picture is due + to your own indifference. I am not blind; I have seen how you rejected all + his loving advances.” Bella drew away from Jim, but he jerked her back. + “If anything in the world would reconcile me to divorce, it is this + unbelievable situation. James, are you shameless?” + </p> + <p> + But James was and didn’t care who knew it. And as there was nothing else + to do, and no one else to do it, I stood very straight against the door + frame, and told the whole miserable story from the very beginning. I told + how Dal and Jim had persuaded me, and how I had weakened and found it was + too late, and how Bella had come in that night, when she had no business + to come, and had sat down in the basement kitchen on my hands and almost + turned me into a raving maniac. As I went on I became fluent; my sense of + injury grew on me. I made it perfectly clear that I hated them all, and + that when people got divorces they ought to know their own minds and stay + divorced. And at that a great light broke on Aunt Selina, who hadn’t + understood until that minute. + </p> + <p> + In view of her principles, she might have been expected to turn on Jim and + Bella, and disinherit them, and cast them out, figuratively, with the + flaming sword of her tongue. BUT SHE DID NOT! + </p> + <p> + She turned on me in the most terrible way, and asked me how I dared to + come between husband and wife, because divorce or no divorce, whom God + hath joined together, and so on. And when Jim picked up his courage in + both hands and tried to interfere, she pushed him back with one hand while + she pointed the other at me and called me a Jezebel. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XIX. THE HARBISON MAN + </h2> + <p> + She talked for an hour, having got between me and the door, and she + scolded Jim and Bella thoroughly. But they did not hear it, being occupied + with each other, sitting side by side meekly on the divan with Jim holding + Bella’s hand under a cushion. She said they would have to be very good to + make up for all the deception, but it was perfectly clear that it was a + relief to her to find that I didn’t belong to her permanently, and as I + have said before, she was crazy about Bella. + </p> + <p> + I sat back in a chair and grew comfortably drowsy in the monotony of her + voice. It was a name that brought me to myself with a jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harbison!” Aunt Selina was saying. “Then bring him down at once, + James. I want no more deception. There is no use cleaning a house and + leaving a dirty corner.” + </p> + <p> + “It will not be necessary for me to stay and see it swept,” I said, + mustering the rags she had left of my self-respect, and trying to pass + her. But she planted herself squarely before me. + </p> + <p> + “You can not stir up a dust like this, young woman, and leave other people + to sneeze in it,” she said grimly. And I stayed. + </p> + <p> + I sat, very small, on a chair in a corner. I felt like Jezebel, or + whatever her name was, and now the Harbison man was coming, and he was + going to see me stripped of my pretensions to domesticity and of a husband + who neglected me. He was going to see me branded a living lie, and he + would hate me because I had put him in a ridiculous position. He was just + the sort to resent being ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Jim brought him down in a dressing gown and a state of bewilderment. It + was plain that the memory of the afternoon still rankled, for he was very + short with Jim and inclined to resent the whole thing. The clock in the + hall chimed half after three as they came down the stairs, and I heard Mr. + Harbison stumble over something in the darkness and say that if it was a + joke, he wasn’t in the humor for it. To which Jim retorted that it wasn’t + anything resembling a joke, and for heaven’s sake not to walk on his feet; + he couldn’t get around the furniture any faster. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the den Mr. Harbison stopped, blinking in the light. Then, + when he saw us, he tried to back himself and his dishabille out into the + obscurity of the library. But Aunt Selina was too quick for him. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” she called, “I want you, young man. It seems that there are + only two fools in the house, and you are one.” + </p> + <p> + He straightened at that and looked bewildered, but he tried to smile. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I was the only one,” he said. “Is it possible that there is + another?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the other,” she announced. I think she expected him to say + “Impossible,” but, whatever he was, he was never banal. + </p> + <p> + “Is that so?” he asked politely, trying to be interested and to understand + at the same time. He had not seen me. He was gazing fixedly at Bella, + languishing on the divan and watching him with lowered lids, and he had + given Jim a side glance of contempt. But now he saw me and he colored + under his tan. His neck blushed furiously, being much whiter than his + face. He kept his eyes on mine, and I knew that he was mutely asking + forgiveness. But the thought of what was coming paralyzed me. My eyes were + glued to his as they had been that first evening when he had called me + “Mrs. Wilson,” and after an instant he looked away, and his face was set + and hard. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that we have all been playing a little comedy, Mr. Harbison,” + Aunt Selina began, nasally sarcastic. “Or rather, you and I have been the + audience. The rest have played.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don’t think I understand,” he said slowly. “I have seen very + little comedy.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not well planned,” Aunt Selina retorted tartly. “The idea was + good, but the young person who was playing the part of Mrs. Wilson—overacted.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, Aunt Selina,” Jim protested, “Kit was coaxed and cajoled into + this thing. Give me fits if you like; I deserve all I get. But let Kit + alone—she did it for me.” + </p> + <p> + Bella looked over at me and smiled nastily. + </p> + <p> + “I would stop doing things for Jim, Kit,” she said. “It is SO + unprofitable.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Harbison harked back to Aunt Selina’s speech. + </p> + <p> + “PLAYING the part of Mrs. Wilson!” he repeated. “Do you mean—?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Playing the part. She is not Mrs. Wilson. It seems that that + honor belonged at one time to Miss Knowles. I believe such things are not + unknown in New York, only why in the name of sense does a man want to + divorce a woman and then meet her at two o’clock in the morning to kiss + the place where his own wedding ring used to rest?” + </p> + <p> + Jim fidgeted. Bella was having spasms of mirth to herself, but the + Harbison man did not smile. He stood for a moment looking at the fire; + then he thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his dressing gown, and + stalked over to me. He did not care that the others were watching and + listening. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true?” he demanded, staring down at me. “You are NOT Mrs. Wilson? + You are not married at all? All that about being neglected—and + loathing HIM, and all that on the roof—there was no foundation of + truth?” + </p> + <p> + I could only shake my head without looking up. There was no defense to be + made. Oh, I deserved the scorn in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “They—they persuaded you, I suppose, and it was to help somebody? It + was not a practical joke?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I rallied a little spirit at that. It had been anything but a joke. + </p> + <p> + He drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I think I understand,” he said slowly, “but—you could have saved me + something. I must have given you all a great deal of amusement.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” I protested. “I—I want to tell you—” + </p> + <p> + But he deliberately left me and went over to the door. There he turned and + looked down at Aunt Selina. He was a little white, but there was no + passion in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for telling me all this, Miss Caruthers,” he said easily. “Now + that you and I know, I’m afraid the others will miss their little + diversion. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, it was all right for Jim to laugh and say that he was only huffed a + little and would be over it by morning. I knew better. There was something + queer in his face as he went out. He did not even glance in my direction. + He had said very little, but he had put me as effectually in the wrong as + if he had not kissed me—deliberately kissed me—that very + evening, on the roof. + </p> + <p> + I did not go to sleep again. I lay wretchedly thinking things over and + trying to remember who Jezebel was, and toward morning I distinctly heard + the knob of the door turn. I mistrusted my ears, however, and so I got up + quietly and went over in the darkness. There was no sound outside, but + when I put my hand on the knob I felt it move under my fingers. The + counter pressure evidently alarmed whoever it was, for the knob was + released and nothing more happened. But by this time anything so + uncomplicated as the fumbling of a knob at night had no power to disturb + me. I went back to bed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XX. BREAKING OUT IN A NEW PLACE + </h2> + <p> + Hunger roused everybody early the next morning, Friday. Leila Mercer had + discovered a box of bonbons that she had forgotten, and we divided them + around. Aunt Selina asked for the candied fruit and got it—quite a + third of the box. We gathered in the lower hall and on the stairs and + nibbled nauseating sweets while Mr. Harbison examined the telephone. + </p> + <p> + He did not glance in my direction. Betty and Dal were helping him, and he + seemed very cheerful. Max sat with me on the stairs. Mr. Harbison had just + unscrewed the telephone box from the wall and was squinting into it, when + Bella came downstairs. It was her first appearance, but as she was always + late, nobody noticed. When she stopped, just above us on the stairs, + however, we looked up, and she was holding to the rail and trembling + perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harbison, will you—can you come upstairs?” she asked. Her voice + was strained, almost reedy, and her lips were white. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison stared up at her, with the telephone box in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Why—er—certainly,” he said, “but, unless it’s very important, + I’d like to fix this talking machine. We want to make a food record.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to break a food record,” Max put in, but Bella created a + diversion by sitting down suddenly on the stair just above us, and burying + her face in her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Jim is sick,” she said, with a sob. “He—he doesn’t want anything to + eat, and his head aches. He—said for me—to go away and let him + die!” + </p> + <p> + Dal dropped the hammer immediately, and Lollie Mercer sat petrified, with + a bonbon halfway to her mouth. For, of course, it was unexpected, finding + sentiment of any kind in Bella, and none of them knew about the scene in + the den in the small hours of the morning. + </p> + <p> + “Sick!” Aunt Selina said, from a hall chair. “Sick! Where?” + </p> + <p> + “All over,” Bella quavered. “His poor head is hot, and he’s thirsty, but + he doesn’t want anything but water.” + </p> + <p> + “Great Scott!” Dal said suddenly. “Suppose he should—Bella, are you + telling us ALL his symptoms?” + </p> + <p> + Bella put down her handkerchief and got up. From her position on the + stairs she looked down on us with something of her old haughty manner. + </p> + <p> + “If he is ill, you may blame yourselves, all of you,” she said cruelly. + “You taunted him with being—fat, and laughed at him, until he + stopped eating the things he should eat. And he has been exercising—on + the roof, until he has worn himself out. And now—he is ill. He—he + has a rash.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody jumped at that, and we instinctively moved away from Bella. She + was quite cold and scornful by that time. + </p> + <p> + “A rash!” Max exclaimed. “What sort of rash?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not see it,” Bella said with dignity, and turning, she went up the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + There was a great deal of excitement, and nobody except Mr. Harbison was + willing to go near Jim. He went up at once with Bella, while Max and Dal + sat cravenly downstairs and wondered if we would all take it, and Anne + told about a man she knew who had it, and was deaf and dumb and blind when + he recovered. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison came down after a while, and said that the rash was there, + right enough, and that Jim absolutely refused to be quarantined; that he + insisted that he always got a rash from early strawberries and that if he + DID have anything, since they were so touchy he hoped they would all get + it. If they locked him in he would kick the door down. + </p> + <p> + We had a long conference in the hall, with Bella sitting red-eyed and + objecting to every suggestion we made. And finally we arranged to shut Jim + up in one of the servants’ bedrooms with a sheet wrung out of disinfectant + hung over the door. Bella said she would sit outside in the hall and read + to him through the closed door, so finally he gave a grudging consent. But + he was in an awful humor. Max and Dal put on rubber gloves and helped him + over, and they said afterward that the way he talked was fearful. And + there was a telephone in the maid’s room, and he kept asking for things + every five minutes. + </p> + <p> + When the doctor came he said it was too early to tell positively, and he + ordered him liquid diet and said he would be back that evening. + </p> + <p> + Which—the diet—takes me back to the famine. After they had + moved Jim, Mr. Harbison went back to the telephone, and found everything + as it should be. So he followed the telephone wire, and the rest followed + him. I did not; he had systematically ignored me all morning, after having + dared to kiss me the night before. And any other man I know, after looking + at me the way he had looked a dozen times, would have been at least + reasonably glad to find me free and unmarried. But it was clear that he + was not; I wondered if he was the kind of man who always makes love to the + other man’s wife and runs like mad when she is left a widow, or gets a + divorce. + </p> + <p> + And just when I had decided that I hated him, and that there was one man I + knew who would never make love to a woman whom he thought married and then + be very dignified and aloof when he found she wasn’t, I heard what was + wrong with the telephone wire. + </p> + <p> + It had been cut! Cut through with a pair of silver manicure scissors from + the dressing table in Bella’s room, where Aunt Selina slept! The wire had + been clipped where it came into the house, just under a window, and the + scissors still lay on the sill. + </p> + <p> + It was mysterious enough, but no one was interested in the mystery just + then. We wanted food, and wanted it at once. Mr. Harbison fixed the wire, + and the first thing we did, of course, was to order something to eat. Aunt + Selina went to bed just after luncheon with indigestion, to the relief of + every one in the house. She had been most unpleasant all morning. + </p> + <p> + When she found herself ill, however, she insisted on having Bella, and + that made trouble at once. We found Bella with her cheek against the door + into Jim’s room, looking maudlin while he shouted love messages to her + from the other side. At first she refused to stir, but after Anne and Max + had tried and failed, the rest of us went to her in a body and implored + her. We said Aunt Selina was in awful shape—which she was, as to + temper—and that she had thrown a mustard plaster at Anne, which was + true. + </p> + <p> + So Bella went, grumbling, and Jim was a maniac. We had not thought it + would be so bad for Bella, but Aunt Selina fell asleep soon after she took + charge, holding Bella’s hand, and slept for three hours and never let go! + </p> + <p> + About two that afternoon the sun came out, and the rest of us went to the + roof. The sleet had melted and the air was fairly warm. Two housemaids + dusting rugs on the top of the next house came over and stared at us, and + somebody in an automobile down on Riverside Drive stood up and waved at + us. It was very cheerful and hopelessly lonely. + </p> + <p> + I stayed on the roof after the others had gone, and for some time I + thought I was alone. After a while, I got a whiff of smoke, and then I saw + Mr. Harbison far over in the corner, one foot on the parapet, moodily + smoking a pipe. He was gazing out over the river, and paying no attention + to me. This was natural, considering that I had hardly spoken to him all + day. + </p> + <p> + I would not let him drive me away, so I sat still, and it grew darker and + colder. He filled his pipe now and then, but he never looked in my + direction. Finally, however, as it grew very dusk, he knocked the ashes + out and came toward me. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to make a request, Miss McNair,” he said evenly. “Please keep + off the roof after sunset. There are—reasons.” I had risen and was + preparing to go downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Unless I know the reasons, I refuse to do anything of the kind,” I + retorted. He bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Then the door will be kept locked,” he rejoined, and opened it for me. He + did not follow me, but stood watching until I was down, and I heard him + close the roof door firmly behind me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XXI. A BAR OF SOAP + </h2> + <p> + Late that evening Betty Mercer and Dallas were writing verses of + condolence to be signed by all of us and put under the door into Jim’s + room when Bella came running down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Dal was reading the first verse when she came. “Listen to this, Bella,” he + said triumphantly: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There was a fat artist named Jas, + Who cruelly called his friends nas. + When, altho’ shut up tight, + He broke out over night + With a rash that is maddening, he clas.” + </pre> + <p> + Then he caught sight of Bella’s face as she stood in the doorway, and + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Jim is delirious!” she announced tragically. “You shut him in there all + alone and now he’s delirious. I’ll never forgive any of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Delirious!” everybody exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “He was sane enough when I took him his chicken broth,” Mr. Harbison said. + “He was almost fluent.” + </p> + <p> + “He is stark, staring crazy,” Bella insisted hysterically. “I—I + locked the door carefully when I went down to my dinner, and when I came + up it—it was unlocked, and Jim was babbling on the bed, with a sheet + over his face. He—he says the house is haunted and he wants all the + men to come up and sit in the room with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on your life,” Max said. “I am young, and my career has only begun. I + don’t intend to be cut off in the flower of my youth. But I’ll tell you + what I will do; I’ll take him a drink. I can tie it to a pole or + something.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Harbison did not smile. He was thoughtful for a minute. Then: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe he is delirious,” he said quietly, “and I wouldn’t be + surprised if he has happened on something that—will be of general + interest. I think I will stay with him tonight.” + </p> + <p> + After that, of course, none of the others would confess that he was + afraid, so with the South American leading, they all went upstairs. The + women of the party sat on the lower steps and listened, but everything was + quiet. Now and then we could hear the sound of voices, and after a while + there was a rapid slamming of doors and the sound of some one running down + to the second floor. Then quiet again. + </p> + <p> + None of us felt talkative. Bella had followed the men up and had been put + out, and sat sniffling by herself in the den. Aunt Selina was working over + a jig-saw puzzle in the library, and declaring that some of it must be + lost. Anne and Leila Mercer were embroidering, and Betty and I sat idle, + our hands in our laps. The whole atmosphere of the house was mysterious. + Anne told over again of the strange noises the night her necklace was + stolen. Betty asked me about the time when the comfort slipped from under + my fingers. And when, in the midst of the story, the telephone rang, we + all jumped and shrieked. + </p> + <p> + In an hour or so they sent for Flannigan, and he went upstairs. He came + down again soon, however, and returned with something over his arm that + looked like a rope. It seemed to be made of all kinds of things tied + together, trunk straps, clothesline, bed sheets, and something that + Flannigan pointed to with rage and said he hadn’t been able to keep his + clothes on all day. He refused to explain further, however, and trailed + the nondescript article up the stairs. We could only gaze after him and + wonder what it all meant. + </p> + <p> + The conclave lasted far into the night. The feminine contingent went to + bed, but not to sleep. Some time after midnight, Mr. Harbison and Max went + downstairs and I could hear them rattling around testing windows and + burglar alarms. But finally every one settled down and the rest of the + night was quiet. + </p> + <p> + Betty Mercer came into my room the next morning, Sunday, and said Anne + Brown wanted me. I went over at once, and Anne was sitting up in bed, + crying. Dal had slipped out of the room at daylight, she said, and hadn’t + come back. He had thought she was asleep, but she wasn’t, and she knew he + was dead, for nothing ever made Dal get up on Sunday before noon. + </p> + <p> + There was no one moving in the house, and I hardly knew what to do. It was + Betty who said she would go up and rouse Mr. Harbison and Max, who had + taken Jim’s place in the studio. She started out bravely enough, but in a + minute we heard her flying back. Anne grew perfectly white. + </p> + <p> + “He’s lying on the upper stairs!” Betty cried, and we all ran out. It was + quite true. Dal was lying on the stairs in a bathrobe, with one of Jim’s + Indian war clubs in his hand. And he was sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + He looked somewhat embarrassed when he roused and saw us standing around. + He said he was going to play a practical joke on somebody and fell asleep + in the middle of it. And Anne said he wasn’t even an intelligent liar, and + went back to bed in a temper. But Betty came in with me, and we sat and + looked at each other and didn’t say much. The situation was beyond us. + </p> + <p> + The doctor let Jim out the next day, there having been nothing the matter + with him but a stomach rash. But Jim was changed; he mooned around Bella, + of course, as before, but he was abstracted at times, and all that day—Sunday—he + wandered off by himself, and one would come across him unexpectedly in the + basement or along some of the unused back halls. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina held service that morning. Jim said that he always had a + prayer book, but that he couldn’t find anything with so many people in the + house. So Aunt Selina read some religious poetry out of the newspapers, + and gave us a valuable talk on Deception versus Honesty, with me as the + illustration. + </p> + <p> + Almost everybody took a nap after luncheon. I stayed in the den and read + Ibsen, and felt very mournful. And after Hedda had shot herself, I lay + down on the divan and cried a little—over Hedda; she was young and + it was such a tragic ending—and then I fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + When I wakened Mr. Harbison was standing by the table, and he held my book + in his hands. In view of the armed neutrality between us, I expected to + see him bow to me curtly, turn on his heel and leave the room. Indeed, + considering his state of mind the night before, I should hardly have been + surprised if he had thrown Hedda at my head. (This is not a pun. I detest + them.) But instead, when he heard me move he glanced over at me and even + smiled a little. + </p> + <p> + “She wasn’t worth it,” he said, indicating the book. + </p> + <p> + “Worth what?” + </p> + <p> + “Your tears. You were crying over it, weren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “She was very unhappy,” I asserted indifferently. “She was married and she + loved some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think she did?” he asked. “And even so, was that a reason?” + </p> + <p> + “The other man cared for her; he may not have been able to help it.” + </p> + <p> + “But he knew that she was married,” he said virtuously, and then he caught + my eye and he saw the analogy instantly, for he colored hotly and put down + the book. + </p> + <p> + “Most men argue that way,” I said. “They argue by the book, and—they + do as they like.” + </p> + <p> + He picked up a Japanese ivory paper weight from the table, and stood + balancing it across his finger. + </p> + <p> + “You are perfectly right,” he said at last. “I deserve it all. My + grievance is at myself. Your—your beauty, and the fact that I + thought you were unhappy, put me—beside myself. It is not an excuse; + it is a weak explanation. I will not forget myself again.” + </p> + <p> + He was as abject as any one could have wished. It was my minute of + triumph, but I can not pretend that I was happy. Evidently it had been + only a passing impulse. If he had really cared, now that he knew I was + free, he would have forgotten himself again at once. Then a new + explanation occurred to me. Suppose it had been Bella all the time, and + the real shock had been to find that she had been married! + </p> + <p> + “The fault of the situation was really mine,” I said magnanimously; “I + quite blame myself. Only, you must believe one thing. You never furnished + us any amusement.” I looked at him sidewise. “The discovery that Bella and + Jim were once married must have been a great shock.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a surprise,” he replied evenly. His voice and his eyes were + inscrutable. He returned my glance steadily. It was infuriating to have + gone half-way to meet him, as I had, and then to find him intrenched in + his self-sufficiency again. I got up. + </p> + <p> + “It is unfortunate that our acquaintance has begun so unfavorably,” I + remarked, preparing to pass him. “Under other circumstances we might have + been friends.” + </p> + <p> + “There is only one solace,” he said. “When we do not have friends, we can + not lose them.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the door to let me pass out, and as our eyes met, all the + coldness died out of his. He held out his hand, but I was hurt. I refused + to see it. + </p> + <p> + “Kit!” he said unsteadily. “I—I’m an obstinate, pig-headed brute. I + am sorry. Can’t we be friends, after all?” + </p> + <p> + “‘When we do not have friends we can not lose them,’” I replied with cool + malice. And the next instant the door closed behind me. + </p> + <p> + It was that night that the really serious event of the quarantine + occurred. + </p> + <p> + We were gathered in the library, and everybody was deadly dull. Aunt + Selina said she had been reared to a strict observance of the Sabbath, and + she refused to go to bed early. The cards and card tables were put away + and every one sat around and quarreled and was generally nasty, except + Bella and Jim, who had gone into the den just after dinner and firmly + closed the door. + </p> + <p> + I think it was just after Max proposed to me. Yes, he proposed to me again + that night. He said that Jim’s illness had decided him; that any of us + might take sick and die, shut in that contaminated atmosphere, and that if + he did he wanted it all settled. And whether I took him or not he wanted + me to remember him kindly if anything happened. I really hated to refuse + him—he was in such deadly earnest. But it was quite unnecessary for + him to have blamed his refusal, as he did, on Mr. Harbison. I am sure I + had refused him plenty of times before I had ever heard of the man. Yes, + it was just after he proposed to me that Flannigan came to the door and + called Mr. Harbison out into the hall. + </p> + <p> + Flannigan—like most of the people in the house—always went to + Mr. Harbison when there was anything to be done. He openly adored him, and—what + was more—he did what Mr. Harbison ordered without a word, while the + rest of us had to get down on our knees and beg. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison went out, muttering something about a storm coming up, and + seeing that the tent was secure. Betty Mercer went with him. She had been + at his heels all evening, and called him “Tom” on every possible occasion. + Indeed, she made no secret of it; she said that she was mad about him, and + that she would love to live in South America, and have an Indian squaw for + a lady’s maid, and sit out on the veranda in the evenings and watch the + Southern Cross shooting across the sky, and eat tropical food from the + quaint Indian pottery. She was not even daunted when Dal told her the + Southern Cross did not shoot, and that the food was probably canned corn + on tin dishes. + </p> + <p> + So Betty went with him. She wore a pale yellow dinner gown, with just a + sophisticated touch of black here and there, and cut modestly square in + the neck. Her shoulders are scrawny. And after they were gone—not + her shoulders; Mr. Harbison and she—Aunt Selina announced that the + next day was Monday, that she had only a week’s supply of clothing with + her, and that no policeman who ever swung a mace should wash her + undergarments for her. + </p> + <p> + She paused a moment, but nobody offered to do it. Anne was reading De + Maupassant under cover of a table, and the rest pretended not to hear. + After a pause, Aunt Selina got up heavily and went upstairs, coming down + soon after with a bundle covered with a green shawl, and with a white + balbriggan stocking trailing from an opening in it. She paused at the + library door, surveyed the inmates, caught my unlucky eye and beckoned to + me with a relentless forefinger. + </p> + <p> + “We can put them to soak tonight,” she confided to me, “and tomorrow they + will be quite simple to do. There is no lace to speak of”—Dal raised + his eyebrows—“and very little flouncing.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina and I went to the laundry. It never occurred to any one that + Bella should have gone; she had stepped into all my privileges—such + as they were—and assumed none of my obligations. Aunt Selina and I + went to the laundry. + </p> + <p> + It is strange what big things develop from little ones. In this case it + was a bar of soap. And if Flannigan had used as much soap as he should + have instead of washing up the kitchen floor with cold dish water, it + would have developed sooner. The two most unexpected events of the whole + quarantine occurred that night at the same time, one on the roof and one + in the cellar. The cellar one, although curious, was not so serious as the + other, so it comes first. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina put her clothes in a tub in the laundry and proceeded to dress + them like a vegetable. She threw in a handful of salt, some kerosene oil + and a little ammonia. The result was villainous, but after she tasted it—or + snuffed it—she said it needed a bar of soap cut up to give it + strength—or flavor—and I went into the store room for it. + </p> + <p> + The laundry soap was in a box. I took in a silver fork, for I hated to + touch the stuff, and jabbed a bar successfully in the semi-darkness. Then + I carried it back to the laundry and dropped it on the table. Aunt Selina + looked at the fork with disgust; then we both looked at the soap. ONE SIDE + OF IT WAS COVERED WITH ROUND HOLES THAT CURVED AROUND ON EACH OTHER LIKE A + COILED SNAKE. + </p> + <p> + I ran back to the store room, and there, a little bit sticky and smelling + terribly of rosin, lay Anne’s pearl necklace! + </p> + <p> + I was so excited that I seized Aunt Selina by the hands and danced her all + over the place. Then I left her, trying to find her hair pins on the + floor, and ran up to tell the others. I met Betty in the hall and waved + the pearls at her. But she did not notice them. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Harbison down there?” she asked breathlessly. “I left him on the + roof and went down to my room for my scarf, and when I went back he had + disappeared. He—he doesn’t seem to be in the house.” She tried to + laugh, but her voice was shaky. “He couldn’t have got down without passing + me, anyhow,” she supplemented. “I suppose I’m silly, but so many queer + things have happened, Kit.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t worry, Betty,” I soothed her. “He is big enough to take care + of himself. And with the best intentions in the world, you can’t have him + all the time, you know.” + </p> + <p> + She was too much startled to be indignant. She followed me into the + library, where the sight of the pearls produced a tremendous excitement, + and then every one had to go down to the store room, and see where the + necklace had been hidden, and Max examined all the bars of soap for thumb + prints. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison did not appear. Max commented on the fact caustically, but + Dal hushed him up. And so, Anne hugging her pearls, and Aunt Selina having + put a final seasoning of washing powder on the clothes in the tub, we all + went upstairs to bed. It had been a long day, and the morning would at + least bring bridge. + </p> + <p> + I was almost ready for bed when Jim tapped at my door. I had been very + cool to him since the night in the library when I was publicly staked and + martyred, and he was almost cringing when I opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “What is it now?” I asked cruelly. “Has Bella tired of it already, or has + somebody else a rash?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be a shrew, Kit,” he said. “I don’t want you to do anything. I only—when + did you see Harbison last?” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean ‘last,’” I retorted, “I’m afraid I haven’t seen the last of + him yet.” Then I saw that he was really worried. “Betty was leading him to + the roof,” I added. “Why? Is he missing?” + </p> + <p> + “He isn’t anywhere in the house. Dal and I have been over every inch of + it.” Max had come up, in a dressing gown, and was watching me insolently. + </p> + <p> + “I think we have seen the last of him,” he said. “I’m sorry, Kit, to nip + the little romance in the bud. The fellow was crazy about you—there’s + no doubt of it. But I’ve been watching him from the beginning, and I think + I’m upheld. Whether he went down the water spout, or across a board to the + next house—” + </p> + <p> + “I—I dislike him intensely,” I said angrily, “but you would not dare + to say that to his face. He could strangle you with one hand.” + </p> + <p> + Max laughed disagreeably. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I only hope he is gone,” he threw at me over his shoulder, “I + wouldn’t want to be responsible to your father if he had stayed.” I was + speechless with wrath. + </p> + <p> + They went away then, and I could hear them going over the house. At one + o’clock Jim went up to bed, the last, and Mr. Harbison had not been found. + I did not see how they could go to bed at all. If he had escaped, then Max + was right and the whole thing was heart-breaking. And if he had not, then + he might be lying— + </p> + <p> + I got up and dressed. + </p> + <p> + The early part of the night had been cloudy, but when I got to the roof it + was clear starlight. The wind blew through the electric wires strung + across and set them singing. The occasional bleat of a belated automobile + on the drive below came up to me raucously. The tent gleamed, a starlit + ghost of itself, and the boxwoods bent in the breeze. I went over to the + parapet and leaned my elbows on it. I had done the same thing so often + before; I had carried all my times of stress so infallibly to that + particular place, that instinctively my feet turned there. + </p> + <p> + And there in the starlight, I went over the whole serio-comedy, and I + loathed my part in it. He had been perfectly right to be angry with me and + with all of us. And I had been a hypocrite and a Pharisee, and had thanked + God that I was not as other people, when the fact was that I was worse + than the worst. And although it wasn’t dignified to think of him going + down the drain pipe, still—no one could blame him for wanting to get + away from us, and he was quite muscular enough to do it. + </p> + <p> + I was in the depths of self-abasement when I heard a sound behind me. It + was a long breath, quite audible, that ended in a groan. I gripped the + parapet and listened, while my heart pounded, and in a minute it came + again. + </p> + <p> + I was terribly frightened. Then—I don’t know how I did it, but I was + across the roof, kneeling beside the tent, where it stood against the + chimney. And there, lying prone among the flower pots, and almost entirely + hidden, lay the man we had been looking for. + </p> + <p> + His head was toward me, and I reached out shakingly and touched his face. + It was cold, and my hand, when I drew it back, was covered with blood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XXII. IT WAS DELIRIUM + </h2> + <p> + I was sure he was dead. He did not move, and when I caught his hands and + called him frantically, he did not hear me. And so, with the horror over + me, I half fell down the stairs and roused Jim in the studio. + </p> + <p> + They all came with lights and blankets, and they carried him into the tent + and put him on the couch and tried to put whisky in his mouth. But he + could not swallow. And the silence became more and more ominous until + finally Anne got hysterical and cried, “He is dead! Dead!” and collapsed + on the roof. + </p> + <p> + But he was not. Just as the lights in the tent began to have red rings + around them and Jim’s voice came from away across the river, somebody + said, “There, he swallowed that,” and soon after, he opened his eyes. He + muttered something that sounded like “Andean pinnacle” and lapsed into + unconsciousness again. But he was not dead! He was not dead! + </p> + <p> + When the doctor came they made a stretcher out of one of Jim’s six-foot + canvases—it had a picture on it, and Jim was angry enough the next + day—and took him down to the studio. We made it as much like a + sick-room as we could, and we tried to make him comfortable. But he lay + without opening his eyes, and at dawn the doctor brought a consultant and + a trained nurse. + </p> + <p> + The nurse was an offensively capable person. She put us all out, and + scolded Anne for lighting Japanese incense in the room—although Anne + explained that it is very reviving. And she said that it was unnecessary + to have a dozen people breathing up all the oxygen and asphyxiating the + patient. She was good-looking, too. I disliked her at once. Any one could + see by the way she took his pulse—just letting his poor hand hang, + without any support—that she was a purely mechanical creature, + without heart. + </p> + <p> + Well, as I said before, she put us all out, and shut the door, and asked + us not to whisper outside. Then, too, she refused to allow any flowers in + the room, although Betty had got a florist out of bed to order some. + </p> + <p> + The consultant came, stayed an hour, and left. Aunt Selina, who proved + herself a trump in that trying time, waylaid him in the hall, and he said + it might be a fractured skull, although it was possibly only concussion. + </p> + <p> + The men spent most of the morning together in the den, with the door shut. + Now and then one of them would tiptoe upstairs, ask the nurse how her + patient was doing, and creak down again. Just before noon they all went to + the roof and examined again the place where he had been found. I know, for + I was in the upper hall outside the studio. I stayed there almost all day, + and after a while the nurse let me bring her things as she needed them. I + don’t know why mother didn’t let me study nursing—I always wanted to + do it. And I felt helpless and childish now, when there were things to be + done. + </p> + <p> + Max came down from the roof alone, and I cornered him in the upper hall. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going crazy, Max,” I said. “Nobody will tell me anything, and I can’t + stand it. How was he hurt? Who hurt him?” + </p> + <p> + Max looked at me quite a long time. + </p> + <p> + “I’m darned if I understand you, Kit,” he said gravely. “You said you + disliked Harbison.” + </p> + <p> + “So I do—I did,” I supplemented. “But whether I like him or not has + nothing to do with it. He has been injured—perhaps murdered”—I + choked a little. “Which—which of you did it?” + </p> + <p> + Max took my hand and held it, looking down at me. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could have cared for me like that,” he said gently. “Dear + little girl, we don’t know who hurt him. I didn’t, if that’s what you + mean. Perhaps a flower pot—” + </p> + <p> + I began to cry then, and he drew me to him and let me cry on his arm. He + stood very quietly, patting my head in a brotherly way and behaving very + well, save that once he said: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry too long, Kit; I can stand only a certain amount.” + </p> + <p> + And just then the nurse opened the door to the studio, and with Max’s arm + still around me, I raised my head and looked in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harbison was conscious. His eyes were open, and he was staring at us + both as we stood framed by the doorway. + </p> + <p> + He lay back at once and closed his eyes, and the nurse shut the door. + There was no use, even if I had been allowed in, in trying to explain to + him. To attempt such a thing would have been to presume that he was + interested in an explanation. I thought bitterly to myself as I brought + the nurse cracked ice and struggled to make beef tea in the kitchen, that + lives had been wrecked on less. + </p> + <p> + Dal was allowed ten minutes in the sick room during the afternoon, and he + came out looking puzzled and excited. He refused to tell us what he had + learned, however, and the rest of the afternoon he and Jim spent in the + cellar. + </p> + <p> + The day dragged on. Downstairs people ate and read and wrote letters, and + outside newspaper men talked together and gazed over at the house and + photographed the doctors coming in and the doctors going out. As for me, + in the intervals of bringing things, I sat in Bella’s chair in the upper + hall, and listened to the crackle of the nurse’s starched skirts. + </p> + <p> + At midnight that night the doctors made a thorough examination. When they + came out they were smiling. + </p> + <p> + “He is doing very well,” the younger one said—he was hairy and dark, + but he was beautiful to me. “He is entirely conscious now, and in about an + hour you can send the nurse off for a little sleep. Don’t let him talk.” + </p> + <p> + And so at last I went through the familiar door into an unfamiliar room, + with basins and towels and bottles around, and a screen made of Jim’s + largest canvases. And someone on the improvised bed turned and looked at + me. He did not speak, and I sat down beside him. After a while he put his + hand over mine as it lay on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “You are much better to me than I deserve,” he said softly. And because + his eyes were disconcerting, I put an ice cloth over them. + </p> + <p> + “Much better than you deserve,” I said, and patted the ice cloth to place + gently. He fumbled around until he found my hand again, and we were quiet + for a long time. I think he dozed, for he roused suddenly and pulled the + cloth from his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The—the day is all confused,” he said, turning to look at me, “but—one + thing seems to stand out from everything else. Perhaps it was delirium, + but I seemed to see that door over there open, and you, outside, with—with + Max. His arms were around you.” + </p> + <p> + “It was delirium,” I said softly. It was my final lie in that house of + mendacity. + </p> + <p> + He drew a satisfied breath, and lifting my hand, held it to his lips and + kissed it. + </p> + <p> + “I can hardly believe it is you,” he said. “I have to hold firmly to your + hand or you will disappear. Can’t you move your chair closer? You are + miles away.” So I did it, for he was not to be excited. + </p> + <p> + After a little— + </p> + <p> + “It’s awfully good of you to do this. I have been desperately sorry, Kit, + about the other night. It was a ruffianly thing to do—to kiss you, + when I thought—” + </p> + <p> + “You are to keep very still,” I reminded him. He kissed my hand again, but + he persisted. + </p> + <p> + “I was mad—crazy.” I tried to give him some medicine, but he pushed + the spoon aside. “You will have to listen,” he said. “I am in the depths + of self-disgust. I—I can’t think of anything else. You see, you + seemed so convinced that I was the blackguard that somehow nothing seemed + to matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I have forgotten it all,” I declared generously, “and I would be quite + willing to be friends, only, you remember you said—” + </p> + <p> + “Friends!” his voice was suddenly reckless, and he raised on his elbow. + “Friends! Who wants to be friends? Kit, I was almost delirious that night. + The instant I held you in my arms—It was all over. I loved you the + first time I saw you. I—I suppose I’m a fool to talk like this.” + </p> + <p> + And, of course, just then Dallas had to open the door and step into the + room. He was covered with dirt and he had a hatchet in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “A rope!” he demanded, without paying any attention to us and diving into + corners of the room. “Good heavens, isn’t there a rope in this confounded + house!” + </p> + <p> + He turned and rushed out, without any explanation, and left us staring at + the door. + </p> + <p> + “Bother the rope!” I found myself forced to look into two earnest eyes. + “Kit, were you VERY angry when I kissed you that night on the roof?” + </p> + <p> + “Very,” I maintained stoutly. + </p> + <p> + “Then prepare yourself for another attack of rage!” he said. And Betty + opened the door. + </p> + <p> + She had on a fetching pale blue dressing gown, and one braid of her yellow + hair was pulled carelessly over her shoulder. When she saw me on my knees + beside the bed (oh, yes, I forgot to say that, quite unconsciously, I had + slid into that position) she stopped short, just inside the door, and put + her hand to her throat. She stood for quite a perceptible time looking at + us, and I tried to rise. But Tom shamelessly put his arm around my + shoulders and held me beside him. Then Betty took a step back and steadied + herself by the door frame. She had really cared, I knew then, but I was + too excited to be sorry for her. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon for coming in,” she said nervously. “But—they + want you downstairs, Kit. At least, I thought you would want to go, but—perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + Just then from the lower part of the house came a pandemonium of noises; + women screaming, men shouting, and the sound of hatchet strokes and + splintering wood. I seized Betty by the arm, and together we rushed down + the stairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter XXIII. COMING + </h2> + <p> + The second floor was empty. A table lay overturned at the top of the + stairs, and a broken flower vase was weltering in its own ooze. Part way + down Betty stepped on something sharp, that proved to be the Japanese + paper knife from the den. I left her on the stairs examining her foot and + hurried to the lower floor. + </p> + <p> + Here everything was in the utmost confusion. Aunt Selina had fainted, and + was sitting in a hall chair with her head rolled over sidewise and the + poker from the library fireplace across her knees. No one was paying any + attention to her. And Jim was holding the front door open, while three of + the guards hesitated in the vestibule. The noises continued from the back + of the house, and as I stood on the lowest stair Bella came out from the + dining room, with her face streaked with soot, and carrying a kettle of + hot water. + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” she called wildly. “While Max and Dal are below, you can pour this + down from the top. It’s boiling.” + </p> + <p> + Jim glanced back over his shoulder. “Carry out your own murderous + designs,” he said. And then, as she started back with it, “Bella, for + Heaven’s sake,” he called, “have you gone stark mad? Put that kettle + down.” + </p> + <p> + She did it sulkily and Jim turned to the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know it was a false alarm before,” he explained patiently, “but + this is genuine. It is just as I tell you. Yes, Flannigan is in the house + somewhere, but he’s hiding, I guess. We could manage the thing very well + ourselves, but we have no cartridges for our revolvers.” Then as the noise + from the rear redoubled, “If you don’t come in and help, I will telephone + for the fire department,” he concluded emphatically. + </p> + <p> + I ran to Aunt Selina and tried to straighten her head. In a moment she + opened her eyes, sat up and stared around her. She saw the kettle at once. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing with boiling water on the floor?” she said to me, with + her returning voice. “Don’t you know you will spoil the floor?” The ruling + passion was strong with Aunt Selina, as usual. + </p> + <p> + I could not find out the trouble from any one; people appeared and + disappeared, carrying strange articles. Anne with a rope, Dal with his + hatchet, Bella and the kettle, but I could get a coherent explanation from + no one. When the guards finally decided that Jim was in earnest, and that + the rest of us were not crawling out a rear window while he held them at + the door, they came in, three of them and two reporters, and Jim led them + to the butler’s pantry. + </p> + <p> + Here we found Anne, very white and shaky, with the pantry table and two + chairs piled against the door of the kitchen slide, and clutching the + chamois-skin bag that held her jewels. She had a bottle of burgundy open + beside her, and was pouring herself a glass with shaking hands when we + appeared. She was furious at Jim. + </p> + <p> + “I very nearly fainted,” she said hysterically. “I might have been + murdered, and no one would have cared. I wish they would stop that + chopping, I’m so nervous I could scream.” + </p> + <p> + Jim took the Burgundy from her with one hand and pointed the police to the + barricaded door with the other. + </p> + <p> + “That is the door to the dumb-waiter shaft,” he said. “The lower one is + fastened on the inside, in some manner. The noises commenced about eleven + o’clock, while Mr. Brown was on guard. There were scraping sounds first, + and later the sound of a falling body. He roused Mr. Reed and myself, but + when we examined the shaft everything was quiet, and dark. We tried + lowering a candle on a string, but—it was extinguished from below.” + </p> + <p> + The reporters were busily removing the table and chairs from the door. + </p> + <p> + “If you have a rope handy,” one of them said, “I will go down the shaft.” + </p> + <p> + (Dal says that all reporters should have been policemen, and that all + policemen are natural newsgatherers.) + </p> + <p> + “The cage appears to be stuck, half-way between the floors,” Jim said. + “They are cutting through the door in the kitchen below.” + </p> + <p> + They opened the door then and cautiously peered down, but there was + nothing to be seen. I touched Jim gingerly on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Is it—is it Flannigan,” I asked, “shut in there?” + </p> + <p> + “No—yes—I don’t know,” he returned absently. “Run along and + don’t bother, Kit. He may take to shooting any minute.” + </p> + <p> + Anne and I went out then and shut the door, and went into the dining room + and sat on our feet, for of course the bullets might come up through the + floor. Aunt Selina joined us there, and Bella, and the Mercer girls, and + we sat around and talked in whispers, and Leila Mercer told of the time + her grandfather had had a struggle with an escaped lunatic. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of the excitement Tom appeared in a bathrobe, looking very + pale, with a bandage around his head, and the nurse at his heels + threatening to leave and carrying a bottle of medicine and a spoon. He + went immediately to the pantry, and soon we could hear him giving orders + and the rest hurrying around to obey them. The hammering ceased, and the + silence was even worse. It was more suggestive. + </p> + <p> + In about fifteen minutes there was a thud, as if the cage had fallen, and + the sound of feet rushing down the cellar stairs. Then there were groans + and loud oaths, and everybody talking at once, below, and the sound of a + struggle. In the dining room we all sat bent forward, with straining ears + and quickened breath, until we distinctly heard someone laugh. Then we + knew that, whatever it was, it was over, and nobody was killed. + </p> + <p> + The sounds came closer, were coming up the stairs and into the pantry. + Then the door swung open, and Tom and a policeman appeared in the doorway, + with the others crowding behind. Between them they supported a grimy, + unshaven object, covered with whitewash from the wall of the shaft, an + object that had its hands fastened together with handcuffs, and that + leered at us with a pair of the most villainously crossed eyes I have ever + seen. + </p> + <p> + None of us had ever seen him before. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Lawrence McGuirk, better known as Tubby,’” Tom said cheerfully. “A + celebrity in his particular line, which is second-story man and all-round + rascal. A victim of the quarantine, like ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ve missed him for a week,” one of the guards said with a grin. “We’ve + been real anxious about you, Tubby. Ain’t a week goes by, when you’re in + health, that we don’t hear something of you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McGuirk muttered something under his breath, and the men chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “It seems,” Tom said, interpreting, “that he doesn’t like us much. He + doesn’t like the food, and he doesn’t like the beds. He says just when he + got a good place fixed up in the coal cellar, Flannigan found it, and is + asleep there now, this minute.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Selina rose suddenly and cleared her throat. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to understand,” she asked severely, “that from now on we will have + to add two newspaper reporters, three policemen and a burglar to the + occupants of this quarantined house? Because, if that is the case, I + absolutely refuse to feed them.” + </p> + <p> + But one of the reporters stepped forward and bowed ceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he said, “I thank you for your kind invitation, but—it will + be impossible for us to accept. I had intended to break the good news + earlier, but this little game of burglar-in-a-corner prevented me. The + fact is, your Jap has been discovered to have nothing more serious than + chicken-pox, and—if you will forgive a poultry yard joke, there is + no longer any necessity for your being cooped up.” + </p> + <p> + Then he retired, quite pleased with himself. + </p> + <p> + One would have thought we had exhausted our capacity for emotion, but Jim + said a joyful emotion was so new that we hardly knew how to receive it. + Every one shook hands with every one else, and even the nurse shared in + the excitement and gave Jim the medicine she had prepared for Tom. + </p> + <p> + Then we all sat down and had some champagne, and while they were waiting + for the police wagon, they gave some to poor McGuirk. He was still quite + shaken from his experience when the dumb-waiter stuck. The wine cheered + him a little, and he told his story, in a voice that was creaky from + disuse, while Tom held my hand under the table. + </p> + <p> + He had had a dreadful week, he said; he spent his days in a closet in one + of the maids’ rooms—the one where we had put Jim. It was Jim waking + out of a nap and declaring that the closet door had moved by itself and + that something had crawled under his bed and out of the door, that had + roused the suspicions of the men in the house—and he slept at night + on the coal in the cellar. He was actually tearful when he rubbed his hand + over his scrubby chin, and said he hadn’t had a shave for a week. He took + somebody’s razor, he said, but he couldn’t get hold of a portable mirror, + and every time he lathered up and stood in front of the glass in the + dining room sideboard, some one came and he had had to run and hide. He + told, too, of his attempts to escape, of the board on the roof, of the + home-made rope, and the hole in the cellar, and he spoke feelingly of the + pearl collar and the struggle he had made to hide it. He said that for + three days it was concealed in the pocket of Jim’s old smoking coat in the + studio. + </p> + <p> + We were all rather sorry for him, but if we had made him uncomfortable, + think of what he had done to us. And for him to tell, as he did later in + court, that if that was high society he would rather be a burglar, and + that we starved him, and that the women had to dress each other because + they had no lady’s maids, and that the whole lot of us were in love with + one man, it was downright malicious. + </p> + <p> + The wagon came for him just as he finished his story, and we all went to + the door. In the vestibule Aunt Selina suddenly remembered something, and + she stepped forward and caught the poor fellow by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” she said grimly. “I’ll thank you to return what you took from + ME last Tuesday night.” + </p> + <p> + McGuirk stared, then shuddered and turned suddenly pale. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he ejaculated. “On the stairs to the roof! YOU?” + </p> + <p> + They led him away then, quite broken, with Aunt Selina staring after him. + She never did understand. I could have explained, but it was too awful. + </p> + <p> + On the steps McGuirk turned and took a farewell glance at us. Then he + waved his hand to the policemen and reporters who had gathered around. + </p> + <p> + “Goodby, fellows,” he called feebly. “I ain’t sorry, I ain’t. Jail’ll be a + paradise after this.” + </p> + <p> + And then we went to pack our trunks. + </p> + <p> + NOTE FROM MAX WHICH CAME THE NEXT DAY WITH ITS ENCLOSURE. + </p> + <p> + My Dear Kit—The enclosed trunk tag was used on my trunk, evidently + by mistake. Higgins discovered it when he was unpacking and returned it to + me under the misapprehension that I had written it. I wish I had. I + suppose there must be something attractive about a fellow who has the + courage to write a love letter on the back of a trunk tag, and who doesn’t + give a tinker’s damn who finds it. But for my peace of mind, ask him not + to leave another one around where I will come across it. Max. + </p> + <p> + WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE TRUNK TAG. + </p> + <p> + Don’t you know that I won’t see you until tomorrow? For Heaven’s sake, get + away from this crowd and come into the den. If you don’t I will kiss you + before everybody. Are you coming? T. + </p> + <p> + WRITTEN BELOW. + </p> + <p> + No indeed. K. + </p> + <p> + THIS WAS SCRATCHED OUT AND BENEATH. + </p> + <p> + Coming. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s When a Man Marries, by Mary Roberts Rinehart + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN A MAN MARRIES *** + +***** This file should be named 1671-h.htm or 1671-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/1671/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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