The day of his dinner having arrived, Hayden found himself turned from
his own doors by the ruthless Kitty and adrift upon the world.
"Yes, you've simply got to go," she said firmly in reply to his
protestations. "The decorators will be here any minute and then we'll
begin to do things. You'll really be much happier at a club or on the
streets, anywhere rather than here, for if you insist on staying, you'll
be chased from pillar to post. You won't be able to find such a thing as
a quiet corner in the whole apartment. Now go, just as quickly as you
can."
Meekly he obeyed, humbly grateful that Tatsu was allowed to remain. He
could trust Tatsu's diplomacy and powers of resource to save his
cherished possessions, and ultimately to restore a seemly order from the
chaos, he was sure that Kitty and her decorators would create. On the
whole, he succeeded in putting in about as stupid and empty a day as he
had expected, perhaps because he had expected it, but late in the
afternoon, as he was strolling up the Avenue in the direction of home, he
espied, with a feeling of genuine pleasure, the figure of Mrs. Habersham
a few paces ahead of him. The prospect of her society, if only for a
block or so, was a welcome relief to him. He felt rather aggrievedly that
he had been the prey of bores during the entire day, skilfully escaping
one, only to be firmly button-holed by another. Therefore he quickened
his steps to overtake Mrs. Habersham, whom he had always found especially
sympathetic and sincere.
She, on her part, seemed delighted to see him. "I am just on my way home
to dress for your dinner," she said, "and I wanted a bit of a walk first.
Don't you feel the spring in the air?"
"Winter contradicts your statement," laughed Hayden, as a cutting wind
caused her to shiver and draw her furs more closely about her throat.
"He can't deny those harbingers of spring anyway, no matter how hard he
tries," she waved her hand toward a florist's window full of jonquils,
daffodils, lilacs, and lilies-of-the-valley. "Oh," with a change of
subjects. "I have been hearing on every side of Mrs. Ames' luncheon
yesterday. It has assumed such importance as a topic of conversation,
that it is now spoken of as 'the luncheon.' There is fame for you! Why
truly," laughing softly, "my curiosity was aroused to such an extent that
I have just been up to see Marcia and get all the details."
"Then you have seen Miss Oldham to-day?" Hayden attempted to infuse into
his tones, merely polite, superficial interest; what he really put into
them was an eager longing to hear of his butterfly lady.
"I have just come from her," said Bea Habersham, "I do hope she will be
more like herself this evening!"
"Like herself!" Hayden wheeled sharply. "Why, what do you mean? Is she
not well? Is she ill?" He could not conceal his anxiety.
"Oh, dear me, no." Mrs. Habersham reassured him with a smile. "Not ill at
all, not in the least. It was only--"
"Only what?" insisted Hayden.
"Only that she seemed a bit--well, overwrought, not quite like herself."
"How overwrought? Do tell me just how she appeared to you. I feel as if
you were keeping something back," urged Robert.
"Nonsense. You are building up a great mountain out of a very
insignificant mole-hill," reproved Bea with a smile. "It is quite absurd.
I see, however," with a resigned smile, "that you will never be satisfied
unless I go into the most elaborate details and tell you just how she
looked and just what she said."
"Oh, please," so simply and earnestly, that her heart was touched and she
gave him one of her rarest and most sympathetic smiles.
"Very well, to begin then," Bea spoke with assumed patience. "Of course,
I feel exactly as if I were in the witness box, but what will one not do
for one's friends. Then to be quite circumstantial: This afternoon, I
stopped at the Oldhams. Marcia was fortunately at home, and I noticed at
once that she was looking rather down in the mouth, and was very
distrait. She seemed in rather a peculiar state, to alternate from a mood
of excitement to one of depression, and more than once while I was
talking to her, I saw the tears well up to her eyes. I, at first, thought
that her mother had been bothering her, for that Venus was in one of her
most exacting and fractious moods, but I soon came to the conclusion that
that was not the root of the trouble. Fortunately, Marcia and I were
alone for a short time before I left and I endeavored to find out what
was weighing on her mind. Not from curiosity, believe me, but because I
felt convinced that something of more than usual importance had disturbed
her poise.
"She would not really unburden herself to me, Marcia is so reticent and
self-contained, you know; but she did admit that she was greatly worried.
From the various things she said, I was able to piece out some facts, and
you are welcome to them, although, I must confess that I think they throw
very little light upon the matter."
"Do let me know them!" begged Hayden. "You know, of course, dear Mrs.
Habersham, that I can not bear to hear of her being unhappy or
distressed, and I should like nothing in all the world so much as to feel
that I could be of some assistance to her."
"I am sure of that," said Bea sweetly; "but to go on. After her mother
left the room, I asked Marcia if she were quite well. She looked a little
surprised at the question, and then said: 'Yes, oh, yes,' but in the most
languid and listless of manners. And all the time that I was talking to
her, her mind seemed to be far, far away, as if she were working
constantly over some problem, trying to think it out. To tell the truth,
she really did not look ill; but just--well, just frightened. That is
about the only way I can express it. She really looked frightened."
"But what could possibly have frightened her?" frowned Hayden. "Did she
give you any clue?"
"None whatever. As I say, she seemed to be thinking of something else,
all the time she was speaking to me of perfectly extraneous subjects,
until at last, I felt that I was taxing her powers of self-command, and
that the kindest thing I could do was to leave her to herself, since she
would not give me her confidence."
"Strange," murmured Hayden. "But don't you think it was probably some
absurd or tyrannical action of her mother's that caused her unhappiness?"
"It wasn't exactly unhappiness," objected Mrs. Habersham. "It was more as
if she had had some kind of a shock, and could not immediately recover
from it. Of course, I am only giving you my impressions, but it was more
as if she feared something, and this fear, whatever it was, grew instead
of decreasing."
"Did you happen to learn how she had been putting in her time all day?"
Hayden's mind went back to that telegram which had been handed
Mademoiselle Mariposa at the luncheon the day before, the telegram from
the mysterious man, a message of interest to both Ydo and Marcia. Could
that have anything to do with Marcia's present state of mind? He recalled
the puzzled and faintly alarmed gaze she had turned first on the Mariposa
and then on himself at the conclusion of the luncheon yesterday, and
instead of finding any light in these reflections, he seemed to plunge
deeper into the darkness.
He shook his head slowly, completely perplexed.
"Did she tell you how she had put in her day?" he repeated.
"Let me see," Mrs. Habersham thought a moment, "she had been at
Mademoiselle Mariposa's early in the afternoon; but what she did before
that, I do not know. Of course, I suppose, she spent the morning at--at
her studio."
"She had been at the Mariposa's? Are you sure?" questioned Hayden.
"Oh, positive." Bea lifted her face to look at him in surprise. "Yes, I
distinctly remember her saying so. We were speaking of what we were to
wear to-night, and she mentioned Mademoiselle Mariposa's costume
particularly. She said she had seen it this afternoon, that Ydo, as she
calls her, had shown it to her."
"Mrs. Habersham," Hayden looked down at her, his square face set, his
eyes full of decision, "I do not believe that I am prying into Miss
Oldham's affairs, when I ask you, who have been her intimate friend since
your early school-days,--what is the cause for the friendship between
Miss Oldham and Mademoiselle Mariposa? When did the acquaintance begin?"
Bea lifted sincere eyes to his. "Truly, Mr. Hayden, I do not know. I can
not throw any light on the subject. I remember though when we were
school-girls, Marcia used to spin some fascinating yarns about the
sayings and doings of her friend Ydo; but since the lady has made her
spectacular appearance as a fortune-teller, the Veiled Mariposa, and
become such a social fad, why, it is simply impossible to get any
information out of Marcia. Kitty and I have plied her with questions,
because we were both interested in mademoiselle, but Marcia shuts her
mouth tight and never says a word, merely remarking that for the present,
Ydo desires nothing should be known. The more mysterious she appears, the
better it is for business. Do you not think so?"
"Naturally," he replied.
"The only time I have ever seen them together, Ydo and Marcia," continued
Bea, who was in a loquacious mood and ready to be lured on by Hayden's
interest, "was one evening when I happened to see them dining together at
the Gildersleeve. They were with Mr.----" Bea hesitated the twinkling of
an eyelash, "an elderly man," she concluded rather lamely.
Hayden looked straight ahead. The words seemed to repeat themselves in
his brain. He remembered that other occasion when Marcia had been there
with an elderly man. His mind leaped to the conclusion that it was the
same--the same middle-aged person with whom he had later seen Marcia
driving down the Avenue, and Horace Penfield had smiled and made some
offensive remark about the rich uncle from Australia. He felt convinced
that this was the man who had sent Ydo the telegram the day before, for
Ydo knew him. Had he, Robert, not seen him at her apartment? The demon of
jealousy began its diabolical whisperings, a mist seemed to float before
Hayden's eyes; but with all the strength of his nature, he refused to
listen. This demon was a visitor that he was resolved not to admit, no
matter how insistent its demands. Had he not promised Marcia his heart's
fealty? Had he not vowed to himself that no matter what mysteries
encompassed and enmeshed her, he would believe and never doubt? And he
again determined with all the strength of his soul to hold that faith so
high and pure and clean that it should never know the stain of suspicion.
"We are making too much of this matter," said Bea resolutely, after
stealing a glance at Hayden's face. "It is a pity that a person can't
indulge in a mood now and then without having it subjected to an
elaborate analysis by his friends. Marcia will appear to-night perfectly
radiant, I am sure, and you and I will feel like idiots. Do you know, I
quite reproached her for going to that luncheon yesterday. Why on earth
should she further any of Mrs. Ames' plans? I told her so frankly; but
she only smiled and said that it was trivial to notice such things. That
even if Mrs. Ames had been rather catty, Wilfred had always been an
especially good friend of hers, and since she didn't believe in bearing
malice and harboring grievances, she was only too willing to be persuaded
to go.
"But what every one is frantic to know is, what did it all mean? Why
really, there are two decided factions. One says it means that Mrs. Ames
has capitulated and that she took this method of announcing the
withdrawal of all opposition to an engagement between Wilfred and Marcia,
and merely invited the Mariposa to show how foolish was the gossip about
Wilfred's devotion to her. The other faction asserts that there is really
something in all this talk about Wilfred's infatuation for Mademoiselle
Mariposa, and that his mother countenances it and took this method of
showing the world her approval of his choice. But every one is utterly at
sea. No one knows really what to think. So you may fancy how tongues are
wagging.
"But good gracious! if I'm to be at your dinner on time, I've got to be
hurrying home, don't you think? Look at that darkening sky! By the way, I
hope Edith Symmes will not spoil the effect of everything with some
terrible gown. Horace Penfield says that he has seen it and that it is
the most awful thing she has yet perpetrated."
Hayden could not forbear laughing. "Horace misled you," he said, "he told
us all about it at the luncheon yesterday. He had just been at her
dressmaker's with her to look at it. He says it is really the most
atrocious thing he has ever seen; but," triumphantly, "it will not grace
my humble dinner. It is being saved for a far more important
occasion--your ball."
"Oh, my goodness!" gasped Bea. "Well," firmly, "I shall put a flea in
Edith's ear. She must call a halt. She is simply letting that crazy
imagination of hers run rampant. I shall speak to her to-night."