I
That Irene and Kemp should embrace and kiss at the table Grace
assumed to be the accepted procedure at such parties. Kissing to the
accompaniment of cocktails was not without its piquancy, but the
picture presented by Irene and Kemp she found unedifying. Under the
stimulus of alcohol Kemp and Irene seemed to have thrown away the
dignity with which they had begun the party. Grace was not without
her experience of kissing, but her experiences had been boy-and-girl
transactions, all the sweeter for their privacy. She wondered whether
it might not be necessary for Trenton to kiss her, but instead he
rebuked Kemp and Irene with mock severity for their unbecoming conduct.
“You two have no manners! We’re terribly embarrassed on this side of
the table.”
“Do excuse us!” cried Kemp. “We were merely carried away by our
emotions. I just happened to remember that I hadn’t kissed Irene for a
week.”
“Well, you needn’t pull that cave man stuff here,” said Irene
petulantly. She opened her vanity box and squinted at herself in the
tiny mirror.
“Pardon, everybody, while I powder my nose.”
“Ward’s never been kissed to my knowledge, Grace,” said Kemp,
apparently undisturbed by Irene’s complaint of his roughness. “The
field’s open to you!”
“Oh, we’re not going to begin in public,” said Grace; “are we Ward?”
She turned smilingly toward Trenton, who met her gaze quizzically.
“I’ll say I’ve never been so tempted before,” he answered.
“Oh, you’re bound to come to it!” cried Irene. “Grace can’t pretend
she’s never been kissed. She’s just a little coy, that’s all.”
“I’m not coy!” Grace protested. “But I’m all out of practice.”
“Well, we can easily fix that!” said Kemp, jumping to his feet. “I’m
going to kiss you right now. My sense of hospitality demands it.”
“Not much you’re not!” cried Irene, forcing him back into his chair. “I
see you kissing Grace!”
“Jealous!” cried Kemp, striking his hands together with delight.
“Jealous at last! But you needn’t be scared Grace. There’s no fun
kissing a girl against her will.”
“How do you know it would be against my will?” Grace demanded.
“Well, it would be against mine,” said Irene. “Ward, why don’t you keep
Grace interested? I’m not going to have Tommy falling in love with her.
We’ve had some girls out here who played up to Tommy and tried to take
him away from me. That’s why I brought Grace. She’s an old pal of mine
and my little boy’s not going to flirt with her, is you Tommy?”
“Of course I isn’t!” Kemp answered and in proof of his loyalty he
kissed Irene again.
The food Jerry was serving called for praise and the Japanese grinned
his appreciation of the compliments they bestowed upon his cooking.
Kemp carved the turkey; he always did his own carving; it gave the home
touch, he explained. Irene said she would make the salad dressing and
that would be another home touch. The essentials were placed before
her and she composed the dressing after a recipe Kemp had taught
her. It was the inspiration of Kemp’s pet waiter in a New York club.
Kemp talked for some time of waiters he knew and their genius in the
composition of salads.
Grace had never before heard food discussed by an epicure. It seemed
odd that a busy man should have given so much time and thought to the
formulae of the kitchen. Kemp appealed to Trenton for confirmation of
his appraisement of the merits of the cooking they had enjoyed together
in various parts of the country, Trenton replying in a whimsical
fashion, tolerant of his friend’s enthusiasm, but letting it be known
that as for himself he was much less fastidious about his food. Kemp
paused in his neat, skilled carving of the turkey to deliver a lecture
on green turtle soup. One might have thought that the whole progress of
civilization depended on settling then and there exactly where green
turtle soup attained perfection. Kemp’s insistence that the New York
Yacht Club was entitled to highest honors in this particular brought
from Trenton the remark that he knew a place in Kansas where the mock
turtle was preferable to any other liquid food he knew.
“Heathen!” cried Kemp disdainfully.
“Let’s talk of ham and eggs,--a brain food superior to the much-boasted
pie,” Trenton suggested. “There’s a boarding house in a coal mining
town in Southern Colorado where a woman sets out the best ham and
eggs I ever ate. I ought to know; I ate ’em three times a day for two
months!”
“You’re an ostrich! If you don’t swear this is the finest turkey you
ever ate I’ll tell Jerry to serve you ham and eggs and I’ll make you
eat ’em.”
Grace eyed her champagne glass with the same hesitancy with which
she had regarded the cocktail. She had never before seen champagne.
From what she had heard and read of it she knew it to be one of the
essentials of the new order of life into which she was being initiated.
“That’s the very last,” said Kemp, taking the bottle from the cooler
and holding it up for their admiration. “Positively the last!”
“Same old joke!” exclaimed Irene. “Tommy’s got enough liquor hid away
out here to last forty years. I’ve seen the cave he built to keep it
in--there’s oceans of it!”
“A rotten exaggeration,” Kemp rejoined, thrusting the bottle back
into the cooler and taking up his glass. “I haven’t enough to last me
twenty.”
Irene now engaged him in a lively debate as to the merits of the wine.
She pretended to a critical knowledge of vintages and after demanding
to see the label expressed serious doubts as to the authenticity of the
contents.
Kemp challenged her assertions; apparently the two found the greatest
pleasure in taunting each other.
“They’re off!” groaned Trenton; “you’d think they hated each other from
the way they talk. We’ll be dignified, Grace, and keep out of their
silly controversies. Between ourselves, I’ve been exposed to a great
deal of champagne, but I can’t tell one brand from another.”
“It’s terribly dangerous, isn’t it?” asked Grace, peering into her
glass. “I took your advice about the cocktail and I didn’t feel it at
all; how much may I drink of this?”
“Well, about a quarter of that won’t do you any harm,” Trenton replied
after pondering the matter with exaggerated gravity. “It seems to me
you’re rubbing it in just a little by asking my opinion in that tone
of voice. One might think I was your father.”
“Oh, you’re not nearly old enough for that! But would you be ashamed of
me,” Grace asked, sipping the wine and holding up the glass each time
that he might see that she was not exceeding her allowance.
“I shouldn’t be ashamed of you even if you were my aunt! I was just
thinking how singular it is that when a man reaches forty he wants
every girl he meets to think he’s only twenty-seven. Have you noticed
that?”
“No; but I’ll remember it. I can see you’re terribly wise. Have I had
enough of this pretty stuff?”
He inspected her glass carefully and nodded.
“Just about.”
“If I drank it all I might be more amusing,” she suggested. “I might be
as lively as Irene.”
“Let me study you first without artificial stimulation. As I have every
intention of keeping sober myself you’ll get some little idea of what
manner of being I am. A first meeting is important--it’s either that
or nothing. If we both got tipsy it would be different; but frankly I
don’t like being tipsy. Oh, don’t think I’ve never been! Far, far from
it. But tonight I have a feeling that it wouldn’t be appropriate for me
to lose my head.”
“No-o?” she inquired, with all the mockery she dared employ.
They were interrupted by a question from Kemp, who was now discussing
automobiles with Irene. Kemp invited Trenton’s support in his defense
of the limousine in which they had driven to The Shack. The car was
not to Irene’s liking and she warned him never to buy another of the
same make. Kemp tried to explain why he had not met her wishes in the
matter. The car was a product of his home town and the manufacturer was
a friend and it was his policy to patronize local industries. Grace
thought it ridiculous that Irene should show so much feeling about
a matter which was, strictly speaking, none of her concern. The car
had seemed to Grace a machine of much splendor and it had borne them
speedily and comfortably to the farm. She was unable to understand why
her friend was so earnestly denouncing it.
“Don’t let them bother you,” said Trenton, “they get into a row about
cars every time I’m here. Their ignorance is pitiful; neither one of
them knows a thing about it.”
“Who doesn’t know anything about cars?” demanded Irene testily.
“Ah! I’ve wakened the enemy’s pickets,” laughed Trenton. “You two ought
to remember that just six weeks ago tonight you threshed out the whole
business. You ought to know by this time, Irene, that Tommy is as
obstinate as a mule. He’d be sure to buy the very car you warned him
against.”
“Oh, I knew all the time that’s what he’d do. Of course I don’t have
to be satisfied. But I’d rather ride in a jitney,” Irene rejoined
scornfully.
“Knowing your aristocratic taste I don’t see you,” said Kemp, turning
to the others. “We are not really fussing today; it’s just a little
sketch we’re putting on. Irene and I never quarrel. I just lead her on
for the joy of seeing how ignorant she is about the things she spouts
about the loudest.”
The talk now shifted to the theatre, it appearing that Kemp in his
business trips to New York found time to cultivate the acquaintance
of many actors and actresses. Irene had met some of them, both in
New York, where she seemed to have encountered Kemp on her buying
excursions for Shipley’s, and at home, where Kemp always “threw a
party” for his particular admirations among theatrical people when they
visited Indianapolis. Apparently these parties had been very gay from
the manner in which Irene and Kemp referred to them. They recounted
with particular delight an occasion on which the star of a musical
comedy had with the greatest difficulty been put into condition to
resume his itinerary after a Saturday night at The Shack. Irene was
moved to immoderate laughter at the recollection.
“When he gets a bun he’s ever so much funnier off the stage than he
ever is on. He climbed out of a window when we were trying to get him
in shape to go to his train and would you believe it!--we found him
in the barnyard talking to a pig! Then he cried to take the little
brown piggy with him; he said he wanted it for his understudy. He was
perfectly screaming about that silly little pig, and we fooled around
so long he missed the last possible train and Tommy had to drive him
clear to Chicago for a Sunday night opening. He kept saying every time
we told him he had missed another train that he would wait till it came
back! You couldn’t beat that!”
Grace and Trenton were laughing more at Irene’s enjoyment of her own
story than at the incident itself. They learned that the comedian
had finally been landed at the stage door of the Chicago theatre
where he was to appear barely in time to dress for his part. Kemp
was enthusiastic about the drive, which had broken all records. He
interrupted Irene’s story with many details of the flight which she had
forgotten.
When Irene and Kemp again became absorbed in each other Grace picked up
the thread of her talk with Trenton.
“We stopped just where it was growing interesting,” she remarked.
“Let’s go right on where we left off. You were saying you thought it
better not to lose your head tonight. Was that on my account? Am I such
a young innocent that you’ve got to take care of me?”
He laughed at the eagerness with which she flung these sentences at
him. If she was affected by her restricted potations there was nothing
in her manner or speech to indicate the fact. Her eyes were bright,
but only from the excitement of her entrance upon a new field of
adventure. Once a young student at the university had addressed some
verses “To Her Questing Eyes” and published them in one of the college
periodicals. The poem had been instantly recognized as a tribute to
Grace Durland; questing was a fitting term for a certain look that came
into her eyes at times when her habitual eager gaze became crossed
oddly with a far-away look of revery. Trenton was doing full justice to
her eyes and was mindful of their swift changes.
“On the whole I don’t really believe you need protecting,” he answered.
“Oh, just a little, perhaps; but I think I’d trust you to take care of
yourself.”
“But what if I don’t want to be taken care of! What if I want to jump
into the water with a big splash!”
“Um! So that’s the idea? Well, I think you’d swim out; and yet again
you mightn’t. There are those who don’t,” he ended gravely.
“I’m not afraid--I’m not afraid of anything!” she said with a defiant
lifting of her head.
“Dear me!” He narrowed his eyes and looked at her sharply. “Broadly
speaking, it’s better not to be afraid of life; life’s got to be
lived.” He pecked at his salad for a moment, then put down his fork
and went on. “We’ve got to meet situations; play the game with the
cards as they’re dealt. We hear a good deal these days about our grand
old grandfathers and what heroic stuff they were made of. They fought
with savages who didn’t have the right ammunition to fight back with;
but nowadays the savages are inside of us. The wild streak in man is
showing itself. It’s in all of us.”
He touched his breast lightly and smiled to minimize the seriousness of
what he was saying.
“Right around here, where the corn grows tall, you might think--and
probably a lot of people back yonder in the city like to think--that
everything’s safe and it’s easy to be good! We’re all being tested
all the time. The man who was an angel fifty years ago would probably
be a perfect devil these days if he had half a chance. The world is a
different place every morning; but that’s only an old habit the world
has. It keeps spinning a little faster all the time. Now we’ve got
right here--” with a slight movement of the head he indicated Kemp
and Irene--“we’ve got a situation that wouldn’t have been possible
twenty years ago--at least not in a town like this. But we may be sure
something of the kind was going on only it was better hidden. Nowadays
with more people and more wealth and the general craving for excitement
things happen differently. We may regret such things, you and I, but we
are not helping matters by denying they exist. Everybody is restless;
people are living as though they expected to die tomorrow and are
afraid they’re going to miss something; but I don’t believe people are
wickeder than they used to be. What we used to call wicked we call
naughty now, and pretend it doesn’t matter!”
He spoke half questioningly, as though not sure of her assent.
“I suppose that’s so,” she replied soberly. “I never thought of
it in that way. But,” she added, “you must have lots of other
responsibilities--more important ones, without troubling about me.”
“We’re not much use in the world if we haven’t a few. I think--I think
I might put you on my list. How would you like that?”
“It would be wonderful if you thought me worth thinking about after we
leave here!” she answered, her eyes bright.
“If I never saw you again I shouldn’t forget you. You’re a vivid
person; I can honestly say that you’re the most interesting person I’ve
met in a long time.”
They were interrupted by Irene and Kemp who rose suddenly from the
table.
“Tommy and I are going to dance,” said Irene. “You two can have your
coffee where you like. There’s a cordial if you want it--Tommy has
everything, you know.” She rested her hand for a moment on Trenton’s
shoulder. Her face was flushed and her voice a little strident. “You
two are spooning beautifully. You may be awfully proud of yourself,
Grace. I never saw Ward so interested in any girl before.”
“Run along, Irene; Grace and I are talking of serious matters,” Trenton
replied.
“Listen to that, Tommy! These idiots are serious! It’ll never do to
leave them here.”
Kemp caught Trenton by the arm and dragged him from his chair.
“Can’t be serious ’n my house, Ward Trenton! Always too serious for
Irene and me. Just look ’t that beautiful girl I got you to play with;
silly to be serious with a girl like that.”
“All right; we’ll dance then,” said Trenton, amiably.
“Thass the talk! Don’t forget this’s a party, not a funeral.”
Jerry had rolled back the rugs and pushed the furniture out of the way
in the living room. Kemp and Irene were already on the floor dancing
exaggeratedly to the air of one of the new records.
“I’m not up to date on the new stuff,” remarked Trenton apologetically;
but Grace found that he danced well and evidently with enjoyment.
“You two not drinkin’ enough,” said Kemp in one of the pauses, planting
himself waveringly before Trenton and Grace and extending a glass.
“Gotta drink more; party’s no good without wine; lots o’ wine. Want
everybody t’ get soused like me.”