"SOME DAY--SOME WAY--SOMEHOW!"
If Zelie Marks had been a malicious girl she could, with a few words
through the telephone or on paper, have spoiled at a stroke such few
chances of happiness as remained to Garth.
The man was completely, almost ludicrously in her power; and Zelie
didn't flatter herself that what he had done was done entirely because
of trust in her. He _did_ trust her, of course. But as the girl set
forth to carry out his wishes, she realised that he had turned to her as
much through a man's blindness as through perfect faith in her unfailing
friendship.
Friendship! She laughed a little at the word, travelling westward in the
luxurious stateroom for which Garth had paid. What a dear fool he was!
But all men were like that. When they fell head over heels in love with
one woman, they never bothered to analyse the feelings of any other
female thing on earth!
Yes, that was about all she was in his eyes--a female thing! He had been
in desperate need of help, and she happened to be the one creature who
could give the kind he wanted.
Some girls would have refused, she thought. Others would have accepted,
and then--behaved like cats. Even she had longed to behave like a cat
when she talked to his "wife" through the telephone. "If Marise Sorel
dreamed of what he's asked me to do, not one of the things he hopes for
could ever by any possibility come to pass," Zelie reminded herself, as
she gazed without seeing it at the flying landscape. "Not that they ever
will come to pass anyhow. But it shan't be _my_ fault that he's
disappointed."
Miss Marks honestly believed that she was unselfish in her service; yet
something far down in the depths of her prayed to gain a reward for it
in the far, far future.
The one thing which seemed certain about this wild marriage was, that it
wouldn't last. Sooner or later--probably sooner!--there'd be a divorce.
Then, maybe, Jack Garth would remember what his pal Zelie Marks had done
for him. He'd turn to her for comfort as now he turned for help.
Love--real love--was sometimes born in such ways: and Zelie didn't for
an instant let herself think that Garth's love for Marise Sorel was
_real_. It was infatuation, and was bound to pass when he found out what
a vain, self-centred girl his idol was; whereas Zelie Marks had been
loyally his chum for years.
Zelie had loved Garth long before the war, when she knew him in
Albuquerque. She was learning stenography then, after her father died,
and when there was no one for her to live with except an aunt. The aunt
was quite a good aunt, and a friend of Mrs. Mooney--Jack's "Mothereen";
but Zelie had wanted to be independent. Jack and Mothereen had been kind
to the girl; and when Jack began building a house near his beloved Grand
Canyon, for a little while Zelie had tremblingly prayed that it was
meant for her to live in. Later, she had begun to lose hope, but not
wholly. And then the war had broken out in Europe. Almost at once Garth
had dashed over to England and offered his services, on the plea that
his father, a Yorkshire man, had never been naturalised as an American.
Zelie couldn't rest in Albuquerque after that. She went east, and would
quietly have slipped away after Garth to Europe as a Red Cross nurse if
she hadn't been afraid he would suspect why she followed. Instead, she
stopped in New York, and got work as a stenographer with a firm of
engineers, thanks to an introduction from Jack. When America flung
herself into the war-furnace too, Zelie Marks did train as a nurse: but
in little more than a year came the Armistice, and the girl reluctantly
took up her old profession again.
Now, she loved Major Garth, V.C., a hundred times more than she had
loved Jack Garth, the smart young inventor. Yet here she was on the way
to Arizona, where she had promised to go and get his house (that house
she had once thought might be hers!) ready to receive another woman!
When he had come to her flat early in the morning and told her what he
wanted done to "surprise Marise," she had made him some hot coffee, and
agreed to everything.
"Yes, Jack," she said, "I'll do it, and your wife shall never know,
unless you tell her yourself. And I advise you not to do that, because
if you drop the least hint, she'll hate the house and me, and be angry
with you. Any girl _would_! I'm not blaming her. She shall think that
your house was just waiting, in apple-pie order, her room and all: or
else--yes, _that_ would be best!--she shall think Mothereen did the
whole business. Of course, that's what you'd want Mothereen to do, and
what she'd want to do, if she were strong enough for the task. But as it
is, she shall work just enough, so that she won't have to _fib_--no hard
work to tire her out. She'll love to go to the Canyon with me--the dear
Mothereen!--and she'll have the time of her life."
So that was Zelie Marks' secret errand. She was to travel straight
through to Kansas City, by the Santa Fe "Limited." There she was to
pause in her journey and purchase a list of things which had never been
supplied for Garth's new house, finished only a short time before the
war: beautiful silver, crystal and fine linen, and the decorations for a
room worthy of a bride like Marise. Kansas City was a big enough town to
provide these things, Garth thought; and as it was many hours nearer the
Grand Canyon than was Chicago, Zelie's purchases would reach their
destination sooner than if she shopped there.
Garth had to leave much to Zelie's taste, but his advice, "Try to think
what _she_ would like," had hurt. Zelie was to have all the trouble and
pain, yet must strive to please Marise Sorel, not herself. And poor old
Zelie was never to get any credit for the sacrifice!
Of course, she _had_ got something. She had got Jack's thanks in
advance. He had said, "You're a brick, Zelie! The finest girl there is.
I shall never forget what you're doing for me." And she had got the most
marvellous jewels she'd ever seen except at the opera or at Tiffany's.
But she didn't count them as possessions. She knew they had been refused
by Marise (Jack put it casually, "Stuff didn't make a hit there. I hope
it will with you!"), and Zelie had no intention of keeping Mrs. Garth's
cast-off finery. Just what she would eventually do with what Jack called
the "stuff," she hadn't made up her mind: but the girl felt confident of
an inspiration.
She had also got money for the trip West, and back, with travel _de
luxe_. She didn't mind accepting that, as she was doing an immense
favour for Jack, which nobody else could or would do. And she didn't
mind his paying an "understudy" to look after her work at the Belmore
till she should return. But she had refused nearly half the money which
Jack had pressed upon her. She simply "wouldn't have it!" she'd
insisted. He had been forced to yield, or vex her: but he had probably
said within himself, "Anyhow, she's got the jewels!"
How little he knew her, if he could think that!... And so, after all,
the thanks were the biggest part of her reward.
Tears smarted under Zelie's eyelids now and then, as she thought of
these things while the train whirled her westward: how loyal she was to
her pal, and was going to be in spite of every temptation; how little
Marise deserved the worship lavished upon her; and how much more good it
would do Jack to give his love in another quarter!
"All the same, I'll do my very, very best," the girl repeated. "I won't
tell Mothereen a single _one_ of the horrid things I think about the
bride. I'll paint her in glowing colours. I'll try and make the house a
dream of beauty, no matter how hard I work. I'll warn Mothereen not to
mention my name, though I'd _love_ to have her blurt it out! But some
day--and some way--I'll somehow get even with Marise Sorel for all she's
made me suffer. And made _Jack_ suffer!"