QUINTARD IS DISCUSSED.
The next afternoon Hermia was sitting in the library with Miss Starbruck
when Helen came in. Hermia greeted her eagerly. Helen always diverted
her mind. Perversely, also, she wanted to hear some one speak of
Quintard.
“I have only a few moments,” said Helen. “I told Mr. Winston to call for
me at four. We are going to find a place to walk where we shall not meet
everybody we know——.” She stopped suddenly as she caught sight of Miss
Starbruck’s gray, erect figure and shocked expression. “I beg your
pardon, Miss Starbruck,” she said, sweetly; “I did not see you.”
“Why do you object to meeting people you know when you walk with young
men?” demanded Miss Starbruck, severely.
Helen, by this time, had quite recovered her presence of mind. “Oh! they
always want to stop and talk,” she said, lightly, “and that is such a
bore.” Then she turned to Hermia: “I saw Grettan Quintard in your box
last night. Did you ever hear such a name? As hard as a rock! But I
imagine it suits him—although he felt pretty bad five years ago.”
“What about?” demanded Hermia.
“You never heard that story? But, to be sure, that was before your time.
He was awfully in love with Mrs. Theodore Maitland—one of the prettiest
women in town—and she with him. Everybody was talking, and finally Mr.
Maitland found it out. He was very cool about it; he calmly went down
town to a lawyer and told him to begin proceedings for a divorce. He
sent for his things and took rooms at a hotel. Everybody cut Mrs.
Maitland, and she felt so horrible that she killed herself. Quintard was
fearfully upset. He went abroad at once and staid five years. This is
his first reappearance.”
“A true nineteenth-century romance!” exclaimed Hermia, sarcastically.
“An intrigue, a divorce court, and a suicide!” But she had listened with
a feeling of dull jealousy, and the absurdity of it angered her. Her
imagination had made a fool of her often enough; was she about to weakly
yield herself to its whip again? What was Quintard or his past to her?
“I rather liked his face,” she added, indifferently. “Did you know him
before he went away?”
“Only by sight. I was not out. For the matter of that he went out very
little himself until the Mrs. Maitland episode. He cared nothing for
society, and only went into it to be with her. He wasn’t even very much
of a club man, and had few intimates. I met him the other night at Mrs.
Trennor-Secor’s dinner, and he took me in. I can’t say I care much for
him; he’s too quiet. But he is awfully good-looking, and has great
distinction. It is time,” she added, glancing at the clock, “for Mr.
Winston to appear.”
“Are you engaged to that young man?” asked Miss Starbruck.
Helen stared. “Oh, no!” she said, with a little laugh; “he is only my
first infant-in-waiting.”
The “infant” arrived as she spoke. He was a mild, blonde,
inoffensive-looking youth, so faithful to his type that it was difficult
to remember him by name until closer acquaintance had called out his
little individualities. He had his importance and use, however; he knew
how to get up and carry off a ball. He even attended to the paying of
the bills when husbands were too busy or had moved to Greenwood. He had
saved Hermia a great deal of trouble, and she rewarded him by taking him
to the theater occasionally. He admired her in a distant, awe-struck
way, much as a pug admires the moon; but he preferred Helen Simms.
“I am afraid you will find it rather cold for walking,” he said to
Helen, with his nationally incorrect imitation of English drawl and
accent. “It is quite beastly out, don’t you know?”
“Yes,” said Helen, “I know; but you will have to stand it. Good-bye,
Hermia. A walk would not hurt you; you are looking pale.”
“Aren’t you going to let me sit down for a moment?” asked Winston.
“No, it is getting late; and, besides, Hermia doesn’t want you. Come.”
They went out, and Miss Starbruck remarked: “That is the average man of
to-day, I suppose. They were different when I was young.”
“Oh, no; that is not the average man,” said Hermia; “that is only the
average society man. They are two distinct species, I assure you.”
“Well, at all events, I prefer him to that dreadful Mr. Quintard. I hope
he will not come to this house, Hermia.”
“Oh, I have invited him,” said Hermia, indifferently. “He shines beside
some who come here, if you did but know it.”
“Then I am thankful I do not know it,” exclaimed Miss Starbruck. “I
think I will go up-stairs and talk to Miss Newton.”
“No,” said Hermia, “stay and talk to me. I am bored! I hate to be alone!
Sit down.”
* * * * *