prefer to take the train with her."
Lillian came to my side, gripped my shoulder hard, and looked into my
eyes grimly.
"See here," she said, "are you going to be a baby or a woman in this
thing?"
I swallowed hard. I knew she was right.
"I'll do whatever you wish," I responded meekly.
So I called Dicky on the telephone, and after explaining my unexpected
presence in town, arranged to meet him at the station and go home with
him.
"Sounds as if we were going to dine with Friend Husband," said
Lillian, as I hung up the receiver.
"Yes, we are going home by trolley from Jamaica. It ought to be a
beautiful trip. Dicky must have been thinking of such a trip before,
for he told me there was a train to Jamaica at five minutes of four
which connects with the trolley, and he usually gets mixed on the
schedule of the trains from Marvin."
"What's that?" Lillian stopped short, then turned the subject. "How
would you like to go down to the station on top of a bus?" she asked,
"or would you prefer a taxi?"
"The bus by all means," I returned.
"I see we are kindred souls," she said. "I dote on a bus ride myself."
We were within a few blocks of the railroad station when she said:
"I hope I am mistaken, but I think Miss Draper will be a member of
your trolley trip home, and I want you to be prepared to act as if it
were the thing you most desired."
"If you are right, I will not go," I said, a cold fury at my heart. "I
will take the next train home."
"You will do no such thing." Lillian's voice was imperative. "You
promised you would let me be your big sister in this thing, and you've
got to let me run it my way!"
"See here, my dear," her tones were caressing now. "You must use the
weapons of a woman of the world in this situation, not those of an
unsophisticated girl. The primitive woman from the East Side would
waltz in and destroy the beauty of any lady she found philandering,
however innocently, with her spouse. The proud, sensitive,
inexperienced woman would have done just what you have contemplated,
go home alone and ignore the wanderers. But, my dear, you must do
neither of those things. You cannot afford to play in Draper's hand
like that."
"Tell me what I must do," I said wearily.
"In a minute. First let me put you right on one question. Dicky is not
in love with this girl yet. If he were, he would not wish any meeting
between you and her. He is interested and attracted, of course, as
any impressionable man with an eye for beauty would be if thrown in
constant companionship with her. And, forgive me, but I am sure you
have taken the wrong tack about it.
"You must dissemble, act a part, meet her feminine wiles with sharper
weapons. Now you have been cold to her, avoided seeing her when
possible, and while not quarreling with Dicky about her, yet
evidencing your disapproval of her in many little ways."
"It is quite true," I answered miserably.
"Then turn over a new leaf right now. You may be sure at this minute
that Dicky is worrying more over your attitude toward this trip than
he is over Miss Draper's dimples. He expects you to have a grouch.
Give him a surprise. Greet the lady smilingly, express your pleasure
at having her companionship on your trip, but manage to register
delicately your surprise at her being one of the party. No, better
leave that part to me. You do the pleasant greeting, I'll put over the
catty stuff. But on your honor, until I see you again, will you put
down your feelings and cultivate Grace Draper, letting your attitude
change slowly, so Dicky will suspect nothing?"
"I'll try," I said faintly.
"You'll do it," she returned bluntly. "I want her to be almost a
member of the family by the time I get there."
* * * * *
The trip by trolley with my husband and Grace Draper through the
beautiful country lying between Jamaica and Hempstead will always
remain in my memory as a turning point in my ideas of matrimony and
its problems.
Lillian Underwood's talk with me had destroyed all my previous
conceptions of dignified wifely behavior in the face of a problem like
mine.
So all during the journey home through the fragrant September air, I
paid as much attention to my role of calm friendliness as any actress
would to a first night appearance. Remembering Lillian's advice to
make the transition gradual from the frigid courtesy of my former
meetings with Grace Draper to the friendly warmth we had planned
for our campaign, I adopted the manner one would use to a casual but
interesting acquaintance.
I kept the conversational ball rolling on almost every topic under the
sun. But I found that the burden of the talk fell on my shoulders. The
girl was plainly uneasy and puzzled at my manner. Dicky's thoughts
I could not fathom, I caught his eyes fixed on me once or twice with
admiration and a touch of bewilderment in them, but he said very
little.
It was a wonderful night; warm, with the languor of September,
fragrant with the heavy odors of ripening fruit and the late autumn
blossoms. There was no moon, but the long summer twilight had not
yielded entirely to the darkness and the stars were especially bright.
A night for lovers, for vows given and returned, it was this, if ever
a night was. What a wonderful journey this would have been for me if
only this other woman was not on the other side of my husband! Then
with savage resentment I realized that she might also be thinking what
possibilities the evening would have held for her if I had not been a
third on the little journey.
Whatever Dicky was thinking I dared not guess. Whatever it was, I was
sure that his thoughts were not dangerously charged with emotion
as were mine and Grace Draper's. I was fiercely glad of his
irresponsibility for the first time.
"Come on, girls. Here's Crest Haven. I've got a brilliant idea. We'll
get one of these open flivvers they have at the station and motor to
Marvin luxuriously. Beats waiting for the train all hollow."
I opened my lips to protest against the extravagance, then closed them
without speaking, flushing hotly at the danger I had escaped. Nothing
would have so embarrassed Dicky and delighted Miss Draper as any
display of financial prudence on my part.
"Oh, Mr. Graham, how wonderful!" Miss Draper gave the impression of
finding her voice mislaid somewhere about her, and deciding suddenly
to use it. "This is just the night for a motor ride."
Her voice matched the night, cooing, languorous, seductive. I knew
if she had voiced her real thoughts she would have willed that I
be dropped anywhere by the roadside, so that she might have the
enchanting solitude of the ride with Dicky.
A daring thought flashed into my brain as we stepped into the taxi.
Why not pretend to play into her hand? It would prove to both Dicky
and her that I was indifferent to their close friendship. And I was
secretly anxious to see what way Dicky would reply to my proposition.
"Dear," I said with emotion, I fancy just the right note of conjugal
tenderness in my voice. "Won't you drop me at the house first before
you take Miss Draper home? I'm afraid I am getting a headache. I've
had a rather strenuous day with Lillian, you know, and I really am
very tired. You will excuse me, I am sure, Miss Draper. I'll try never
to quit like this again. But my headaches are not to be trifled with."
"I am so sorry." Her voice was conventional, but I caught the under
note of joy. "Of course I will excuse you."
"Are you sure the ride over there wouldn't do your head good, Madge?"
"Oh, no, Dicky, I feel that I must get home quickly. But that does not
need to affect your plans. Katie is at home. I do not need you in the
least. Go right along and enjoy your ride. I only wish I felt like
doing it, too."
I fairly held my breath the rest of the ride. Dicky had not replied to
my suggestion. What would he do when we reached the house?
The taxi sped along over the smooth roads, turned up the driveway
at the side of the house and halted before the steps of the veranda.
Dicky sprang out, gave his hand to me, and then turned to the driver.
"Take this lady to Marvin," he said. "She will tell you the street.
How much do I owe you?"
"One dollar and a half."
I knew the charge was excessive, but I also knew enough to hold my
tongue about it. Dicky paid the man and spoke to the girl inside.
"Good night, Miss Draper. You see you will have to enjoy the ride for
both of us."
"Oh, Dicky!" I protested, but with a fierce little thrill of triumph
at my heart. "This is a shame. Honestly, I do not need you. Go on over
with Miss Draper."
"Of course he will do no such thing." The girl spoke with finality. I
could imagine the storm of jealous rage that was swaying her. "There
is nothing else for Mr. Graham to do but to stay with you." Her tone
added, "You have compelled him to do so against his will."
She leaned from the cab. Her face looked ethereally beautiful in the
faint light. I knew she meant to make Dicky regret that he could not
accompany her.
"Good night," she said sweetly. "I am so sorry you do not feel well. I
sincerely hope you will be better in the morning."
But as the taxi rolled away, my heart beating a triumphant
accompaniment to the roll of its wheels, I knew she was wishing me
every malevolent thing possible.
I was glad she could not guess the bitter taste in my cup of victory.
Long after Dicky was asleep, I lay on my porch bed looking out at the
stars and debating over and over the question:
"Did Dicky refuse to accompany Grace Draper to her home because of
consideration for me, or because he was afraid to trust himself alone
with her?"
XXVI
A VOICE THAT CARRIED FAR
"Ah! Mrs. Graham, this is an unexpected pleasure."
Dr. Pettit's eyes looked down into my own with an expression that
emphasized the words he had just uttered. His outstretched hand
clasped mine warmly, his impressive greeting embarrassed me a bit, and
I turned instinctively toward Dicky to see if he had noticed the young
physician's extraordinarily cordial greeting.
But this I had no opportunity to discover, for as I turned, a taxi
drew up to the curb where the Underwoods--who had come down to spend
the promised week with us--Dicky and I were waiting for the little
Crest Haven Beach trolley and Dicky sprang to meet Grace Draper and
the Durkees--Alfred Durkee and his mother, who completed our party for
the motor boat trip.
"I am very glad to see you, Dr. Pettit," I murmured conventionally,
then hurriedly: "Pardon me a moment, I must greet these guests. I will
be back."
When I turned again to him after welcoming Grace Draper with forced
friendliness, and the Durkees with the real warmth of liking I felt
for them, I found him talking to Lillian.
Dr. Pettit, it appeared, was waiting for the same car we wished to
take, and no one looking at our friendly chatting group would have
known that he did not belong to the party.
It was when we were all seated comfortably in the trolley, bowling
merrily along over the grass-strewn track, that Lillian voiced a
suggestion which had sprung into my own mind, but to which I did not
quite know how to give utterance.
"Look here," she said brusquely, "I'm not the hostess of this party,
but I'm practically one of the family, so I feel free to issue an
invitation if I wish. Dr. Pettit, what's the matter with you joining
our party for the day? Dicky here has been howling for another man to
help lug the grub all morning. Unless you are set on a solitary day
that man 'might as well be you'"--she punctuated the parody with a
mocking little moue.
I had a sneaking little notion that Dicky would have been glad of the
opportunity to box Lillian's ears for her suggestion. I do not think
he enjoyed the idea of adding Dr. Pettit to the party, but, of course,
in view of what she had said there was nothing for him to do but to
pretend a cordial acquiescence in her suggestion.
"That's the very thing," he said, with a heartiness which only I, and
possibly Lillian, could dream was assumed. "Lil, you do occasionally
have a gleam of human intelligence, don't you?
"I do hope that you have no plan that will interfere with coming with
us," he said to the physician. "We have a big boat chartered down here
at the beach, and we're going to loaf along out to one of the 'desert
islands' and camp for the day."
"That sounds like a most interesting program," said the young
physician. His voice held a note of hesitation, and he looked swiftly,
inquiringly, at me and back again. It was so carelessly done that I do
not think any one noticed it, but I realized that he was waiting for
me to join my voice to the invitation.
"Well, Dr. Pettit," Dicky came up at this juncture, "out for the day?"
His tone was cordial enough, but I, who knew every inflection of
Dicky's voice, realized that he did not relish the appearance of Dr.
Pettit upon the scene.
"Yes, I'm going down to the shore for a dip," the young physician
returned. And then without the stiff dignity which I had seen in his
professional manner, he acknowledged the introductions which I gave
him to Grace Draper and the Durkees.
"I trust you will think it interesting enough to make it worth
your while to join us," I said demurely, lifting my eyes to his and
catching a swift flash of something which might be either relief or
triumph in his steely gray ones.
"Indeed, I shall be very glad to accompany you," he said, smiling.
Our boat, a large, comfortable one, built on lines of usefulness,
rather than beauty, slipped over the dancing blue waters of the bay
like an enchanted thing. A neat striped awning was stretched over the
rear of the boat beneath which we lounged at ease.
The boat sped on as lazily as our idle conversation, and finally we
came in sight of a gleaming beach of sand, with seaweed so luxuriantly
tangled that it looked like small clumps of bushes, with the calm,
still water of the bay on one side, and the lazily rolling surf on the
other.
"Behold our desert island!" Dicky exclaimed dramatically, springing to
his feet.
Jim ran the boat skilfully up on the beach and grounded her. Harry
Underwood stepped forward to assist me ashore, but Dr. Pettit, with
unobtrusive quickness, was before him.
As I laid my hand in that of the young physician, Harry Underwood gave
a hoarse stage laugh. "I told you so," he croaked maliciously; "I knew
I had a rival on my hands."
As Harry Underwood uttered his jibing little speech, Dicky raised his
head and looked fixedly at me. It was an amazed, questioning look, one
that had in it something of the bewilderment of a child. In another
instant he had turned away to answer a question of Grace Draper's.
I felt my heart beating madly. Was Dicky really taking notice of the
attentions which Harry Underwood and Dr. Pettit were bestowing upon
me? I had not time to ponder long, however, for Lillian Underwood
seized my arm almost as soon as we stepped on shore and walked me away
until we were out of earshot of the others.
"Did you see Dicky's face," she demanded breathlessly, "when Harry and
that lovely doctor of yours were doing the rival gallant act? It was
perfectly lovely to see his lordship so puzzled. That doctor friend of
yours was certainly sent by Providence just at this time. Just keep up
a judicious little flirtation with him and I'll wager that before
the week's out Dicky will have forgotten such a girl as Grace Draper
exists."
If it had not been for the memory of Lillian's advice ringing in
my ears, I think I should have much astonished Dr. Pettit and Harry
Underwood when they started into the surf with me.
The whole situation was most annoying to me. And, besides, it was
so unutterably silly! I might have been any foolish school girl of
seventeen, with a couple of immature youths vying for my smiles, for
any reserve or dignity there was in the situation.
My fingers itched to astonish each of the smirking men with a sound
box on the ear. But my fiercest anger was against Dicky. If he had
been properly attentive to me, Mr. Underwood and Dr. Pettit would have
had no opportunity, indeed would not have dared, to pay me the idiotic
compliments, or to offer the silly attentions they had given me.
But Dicky and Grace Draper were romping in the surf, like two
children, splashing water over each other, and running hand in hand
toward the place far out on the sand--for it was low tide--where they
could swim.
They might have been alone on the beach for anything their appearance
showed to the contrary. And yet as I gazed I saw Dicky look past the
girl in my direction, with a quick, furtive, watching glance.
As they went farther into the surf, he sent another glance over his
shoulder toward me.
As I caught it, guessing that in all his apparent interest in Grace
Draper he was yet watching me and my behavior, something seemed to
snap in my brain.
I would give him something to watch!
With a swift movement I slipped a little bit away from the two men by
my side, and, filling my hands with water, splashed it full into the
face of Harry Underwood.
"Dare you to play blind man's buff," I said gayly, sending another
handful into Dr. Pettit's face, and then slipping adroitly to one side
I laughed with, I fancy, as much mischief as any hoyden of sixteen
could have put into her voice, at the picture the men made trying to
get the salt water out of their eyes.
I had no compunctions on the score of their discomfort, for I felt
that I had a score to settle with each of them. The way in which each
took my rudeness, however, was characteristic of the men.
Harry Underwood's face grew black for a minute, then it cleared and he
laughed boisterously.
"You little devil," he said, "I'll pay you for that. Ever get kissed
under water? Well, that's what will happen to you before this day is
over."
Dr. Pettit's face did not change, but into his gray eyes came a
little steely glint. He said nothing, only smiled at me. But there was
something about both smile and eyes that made me more uncomfortable
than Harry Underwood's bizarre threat.
I was so unskilled in this game of banter and flirtation that I was at
a loss what to say. Recklessly I grasped at the first thing which came
into my mind.
"You'll have to catch me first," I said, daringly, and turning, ran
swiftly out toward the open sea. I am only a fair swimmer, but the sea
was unusually calm, so that I went much farther than I otherwise would
have dared.
When I found the water getting too deep for walking I started
swimming. As I swam I looked over my shoulder. The two men were
following me, both swimming easily. Dr. Pettit was in the lead, but
Harry Underwood, with powerful strokes, was not far behind him. I
concluded that Dr. Pettit had been the swifter runner, but that the
other man was the better swimmer.
As I saw them coming toward me, I realized that I had given them a
challenge which each in his own way would probably take up. I was
dismayed. I felt that I could not bear the touch of either man's hand.
In another moment my punishment had come.
Dr. Pettit overtook me, stretched out his hand, just touched me with
a caressing, protecting little gesture, and said in a low tone, "Don't
be afraid, little girl: If you will accord me the privilege, I will
see that your friend does not get a chance of fulfilling his threat."
I knew that he intended his words for my ear alone, but he had not
counted on Harry Underwood's quick ear. That gentleman swam lazily
toward us, saying as he passed us, with a malicious little grin:
"Better go slow upon that protecting-heroine-from-villain stunt. I see
Friend Husband is getting a bit restless."
He forged on into the surf, with long, powerful strokes that yet had
the curious appearance of indolence which invests every action of his.
Startled at his words, I looked toward the place where I had last seen
Dicky romping in the waves with Grace Draper.
The girl was swimming by herself. Dicky, with rapid strokes, was
coming toward us.
"For the love of heaven, Madge!" he said, angrily, as he came up to
us. "Haven't you any more sense than to come away out here? This sea
is calm, but it is treacherous, and you are farther out than you have
ever gone before. Come back with me this minute."
The sight of Grace Draper swimming by herself gave me an inspiration.
The game which Lillian had advised me to play was certainly
succeeding. I would keep it up.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" I demanded, assuming an
indignation I did not feel. "Dr. Pettit was saying nothing to me that
could possibly interest you." I felt a little twinge of conscience at
the fib, but I had too much at stake to hesitate over a quibble. "As
for casting sheep's eyes, as you so elegantly express it, you've been
doing so much of it yourself that I suppose it is natural for you to
accuse other people of it."
"Now what do you mean by that?" Dicky demanded, staring at me with
such an innocent air that I could have laughed if I had not been
thoroughly angry at his silly attempt to misunderstand me.
"Don't be silly, Dicky," I said, pettishly; "I can swim perfectly
well out here and even if anything should happen, Dr. Pettit and Mr.
Underwood are surely good swimmers enough to take care of me." I could
not resist putting that last little barbed arrow into my quiver, for
Dicky, while a good swimmer, even I could see, was not as skillful as
either Mr. Underwood or Dr. Pettit.
Dicky waited a long moment before answering, then he spoke tensely,
sternly:
"Madge, answer me, are you coming back with me now, or are you not?"
The tone in which he put the question was one which I could not brook,
even at the risk of seriously offending Dicky. An angry refusal was
upon my lips when Harry Underwood's voice saved me the necessity of a
reply.
"There, there, Dicky-bird, keep your bathing suit on," he admonished,
roughly; "of course, she'll go back, we'll all go back, a regular
triumphal procession with beautiful heroine escorted by watchful
husband, treacherous villain and faithful friend." He grinned at Dr.
Pettit, and we all swam back to shallower water, Dr. Pettit and Mr.
Underwood gradually edging off some distance away from Dicky and me.
I could not help smiling at the ludicrous aspect we must have
presented. Dicky must have been watching me narrowly, for he suddenly
growled:
"To the devil with Grace Draper!" Dicky cried, and his voice was
louder, carried farther than he realized. "I'm not bothering about
her. She's getting on my nerves anyway; but you happen to be my wife,
and what you do is my concern, don't you forget that, my lady."
XXVII
"HOW NEARLY I LOST YOU!"
Dicky and I had been so engrossed in our quarrel that we had not
noticed our proximity to Grace Draper. Whether she had purposely
approached us or not, I could not tell. At any rate, when, after
Dicky's outburst of jealous anger against Dr. Pettit and my retort
concerning his model, he had cried out loudly, "To the devil with
Grace Draper! I'm not bothering about her. She's getting on my nerves
anyway," I heard a choking little gasp from behind me, and, turning
swiftly, saw the girl standing quite near to us.
Except when excited, Grace Draper never has any color, but the usual
clear pallor of her face had changed to a grayish whiteness. I had
reason enough to hate the girl, I had schemed with Lillian to save
Dicky from her influence, but in that moment, as I gazed at her, I
felt nothing but deep pity for her.
For all the poise and pretence of the girl was stripped from her. She
was a ghastly, pitiable sight, as she stood there, her big eyes fixed
on Dicky, her breath coming unevenly in shuddering gasps.
Then she glanced at me and her eyes held mine for a moment,
fascinated; then, with a little shrug of her shoulders, she turned
away, and I knew that the danger of Dicky's realizing her agitation
was passed.
"What are you looking at so earnestly?" Dicky demanded.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned swiftly, following my gaze,
and catching sight of the retreating back of Grace Draper.
"Good Lord!" he gasped in consternation. "Do you suppose she heard
what I said?"
"Oh, I'm sure she didn't," I replied mendaciously.
Dicky looked at me curiously. Whether he believed me or not I do not
know. At any rate, he did not press the question.
Neither did he again refer to Dr. Pettit, to my sincere relief.
We made a merry picnic of our impromptu luncheon, and after it,
when we were dried by the sun, we spent a comfortable lazy two hours
lounging on the beach.