THE HERO ENTERS AND TROUBLE BEGINS
The Von Taer reception fully launched the three nieces in society.
Endorsed by Diana and backed by John Merrick's millions and their own
winsome charms, they were sure to become favorites in that admirable set
to which they had fortunately gained admittance.
Cards poured in upon them during; the succeeding days and they found
themselves busy returning calls and attending dinners, fetes, bridge
parties and similar diversions. The great Mrs. Sandringham took a
decided fancy to Louise, and when the committee was appointed to arrange
for the social Kermess to be held in December, this dictatorial leader
had the girl's name included in the list. Naturally the favor led to all
three cousins taking active part in the most famous social event of the
season, and as an especial mark of favoritism they were appointed to
conduct the "flower booth," one of the important features of the
Kermess.
Mrs. Merrick was in the seventh heaven of ecstatic delight; Uncle John
declared his three girls were sure to become shining lights, if not
actual constellations, wherever they might be placed; Major Doyle
growled and protested; but was secretly pleased to have "our Patsy the
captain of the dress parade," where he fondly imagined she outclassed
all others. All former denunciations of society at large were now
ignored, even by unimpressive Beth, and the girls soon became deeply
interested in their novel experiences.
Arthur Weldon sulked at home, unhappy and undecided, for a day or two
after the reception. Sunday noon he dispatched a messenger to Diana with
a note saying he would be unable to keep his appointment with her that
afternoon. Then he went straight to the Merrick home and sent his card
to Louise. The girl flushed, smiled, frowned, and decided to go down.
No one had ever interested her so much as Arthur Weldon. There had been
a spice of romance about their former relations that made her still
regard him as exceptional among mankind. She had been asking herself,
since the night of the reception, if she still loved him, but could not
come to a positive conclusion. The boy was no longer "ineligible," as he
had been at first; even Uncle John could now have no serious objection
to him. He was handsome, agreeable, occupied a good social position and
was fairly well off in the way of worldly goods--the last point removing
Mrs. Merrick's former rejection of Arthur as a desirable son-in-law.
But girls are wayward and peculiar in such an _affaire du coeur_, and
none of these things might have weighed with Louise had she not
discovered that Diana Von Taer was in love with Arthur and intended to
win him. That aroused the girl's fighting instincts, rendered the young
man doubly important, and easily caused Louise to forget her resentment
at his temporary desertion of her. Perhaps, she reflected, it had
partially been her own fault. Now that Arthur showed a disposition to
renew their friendship, and she might promise herself the satisfaction
of defeating Diana's ambitions, it would be diplomatic, at least, to
receive the youth with cordial frankness.
Therefore she greeted him smilingly and with outstretched hand, saying:
"This is quite a surprise, Mr. Weldon. I'd a notion you had forgotten
me." "No, indeed, Louise! How could you imagine such a thing?" he
answered, reproachfully.
"There was some evidence of the fact," she asserted archly. "At one time
you gave me no peace; then you became retiring. At last you disappeared
wholly. What could I think, sir, under such circumstances?"
He stood looking down at her thoughtfully. How pretty she had grown; and
how mature and womanly.
"Louise," said he, gently, "don't let us indulge in mutual reproaches.
Some one must have been at fault and I'll willingly take all the blame
if you will forgive me. Once we were--were good friends. We--we intended
to be still more to one another, Louise, but something occurred, I don't
know what, to--to separate us."
"Why, you went away," said the girl, laughing; "and that of course
separated us."
"You treated me like a beggar; don't forget that part of it, dear. Of
course I went away."
"And consoled yourself with a certain Miss Diana Von Taer. It has lately
been rumored you are engaged to her." "Me? What nonsense?" But he
hushed guiltily, and Louise noted everything and determined he should
not escape punishment.
"Diana, at least, is in earnest," she remarked, with assumed
indifference. "You may not care to deny that you have been very
attentive to her."
"Not especially so," he declared, stoutly.
"People gossip, you know. And Diana is charming."
"She's an iceberg!"
"Oh, you have discovered that? Was she wholly unresponsive, then?"
"No," he said, with a touch of anger. "I have never cared for Diana,
except in a friendly way. She amused me for a while when--when I was
wretched. But I never made love to her; not for a moment. Afterward,
why--then----"
"Well; what then?" as he hesitated, growing red again.
"I found she had taken my careless attentions in earnest, and the play
was getting dangerous. So I went abroad."
Louise considered this explanation seriously. She believed he was
speaking the truth, so far as he knew. But at the same time she realized
from her own experience that Arthur might as easily deceive himself as
Diana in his estimate as to the warmth of the devotion he displayed. His
nature was impetuous and ardent. That Diana should have taken his
attentions seriously and become infatuated with the handsome young
fellow was not a matter to cause surprise.
Gradually Louise felt her resentment disappearing. In Arthur's presence
the charm of his personality influenced her to be lenient with his
shortcomings. And his evident desire for a reconciliation found an echo
in her own heart.
Mutual explanations are excellent to clear a murky atmosphere, and an
hour's earnest conversation did much to restore these two congenial
spirits to their former affectionate relations. Of course Louise did not
succumb too fully to his pleadings, for her feminine instinct warned her
to keep the boy on "the anxious seat" long enough to enable him to
appreciate her value and the honor of winning her good graces. Moreover,
she made some severe conditions and put him on his good behavior. If he
proved worthy, and was steadfast and true, why then the future might
reward him freely.
Diana had been making careful plans for her interview with Arthur that
Sunday afternoon. With no futile attempt to deceive herself as to
existent conditions she coldly weighed the chances in her mental scale
and concluded she had sufficient power to win this unstable youth to her
side and induce him to forget that such a person as Louise Merrick ever
existed.
Diana was little experienced in such affairs, it is true. Arthur Weldon
had been her first and only declared admirer, and no one living had
studied his peculiar nature more critically than this observant girl.
Also she knew well her own physical failings. She realized that her
personality was to many repulsive, rather than attractive, and this in
spite of her exquisite form, her perfect breeding and many undeniable
accomplishments. Men, as a rule, seldom remained at her side save
through politeness, and even seemed to fear her; but never until now had
she cared for any man sufficiently to wish to retain or interest him.
There were unsuspected fascinations lying dormant in her nature, and
Miss Von Taer calmly reflected that the exercise of these qualities,
backed by her native wit and capacity for intrigue, could easily
accomplish the object she desired.
Thus she had planned her campaign and carefully dressed herself in
anticipation of Arthur's call when his note came canceling the
engagement. After rereading his lame excuse she sat down in a quiet
corner and began to think. The first gun had been fired, the battle was
on, and like a wise general she carefully marshaled her forces for
combat.
An hour or two later she turned to her telephone book and called up the
Merrick establishment. A voice, that of a maid, evidently, answered her.
"I wish to speak with Miss Merrick," said Diana.
Louise, annoyed at being disturbed, left Arthur's side to respond to the
call.
"Who is it, please?" she asked.
"Is Mr. Weldon still there, or has he gone?" enquired Diana, disguising
her voice and speaking imperatively.. "Why, he's still here," answered
bewildered Louise; "but who is talking, please?"
No answer.
"Do you wish to speak with Mr. Weldon?" continued the girl, mystified at
such an odd procedure.
Diana hung up her receiver, severing the connection. The click of the
instrument assured Louise there was no use in waiting longer, so she
returned to Arthur. She could not even guess who had called her. Arthur
could, though, when he had heard her story, and Diana's impudent
meddling made him distinctly uneasy. He took care not to enlighten
Louise, and the incident was soon forgotten by her.
"It proved just as I expected," mused Diana, huddled in her reclining'
chair. "The fool has thrown me over to go to her. But this is not
important. With the situation so clearly defined I shall know exactly
what I must do to protect my own interests."
Mr. Von Taer was away from home that Sunday afternoon, and would not
return until a late hour. Diana went to the telephone again and after
several unsuccessful attempts located her cousin, Mr. Charles Connoldy
Mershone, at a club.
"It's Diana," she said, when at last communication was established. "I
want you to come over and see me; at once."
"You'll have to excuse me, Di," was the answer. "I was unceremoniously
kicked out the last time, you know."
"Father's away. It's all right, Charlie. Come along."
"Can't see it, my fair cousin. You've all treated me like a bull-pup,
and I'm not anxious to mix up with that sort of a relationship. Anything
more? I'm going to play pool to win my dinner."
"Funds running low, Charlie?"
"Worse than that; they're invisible."
"Then pay attention. Call a taxi at once, and get here as soon as you
can. I'll foot the bill--and any others that happen to be bothering
you."
A low, surprised whistle came over the wire.
"What's up, Di?" he asked, with new interest.
"Come and find out."
"Can I be useful?"
"Assuredly; to yourself."
"All right; I'm on the way."
He hung up, and Diana gave a sigh of content as she slowly returned to
her den and the easy chair, where Mr. Mershone found her "coiled" some
half hour later.
"This is a queer go," said the young man, taking a seat and glancing
around with knitted brows. "It isn't so long since dear Uncle Hedrik
tumbled me out of here neck and crop; and now Cousin Diana invites me to
return."
At first glance young Mershone seemed an attractive young fellow, tall,
finely formed and well groomed. But his eyes were too close together and
his handsome features bore unmistakable marks of dissipation.
"You disgraced us a year or so ago, Charlie," said Diana, in her soft,
quiet accents, "and under such circumstances we could not tolerate you.
You can scarcely blame us for cutting your acquaintance. But now--"
"Well, now?" he enquired coolly, trying to read her impassive face.
"I need the services of just such an unscrupulous and clever individual
as you have proven yourself to be. I'm willing to pay liberally for
those services, and you doubtless need the money. Are we allies, then?"
Mershone laughed, with little genuine mirth.
"Of course, my dear cousin," he responded; "provided you propose any
legal villainy. I'm not partial to the police; but I really need the
money, as you suggest."
"And you will be faithful?" she asked, regarding him doubtfully.
"To the cause, you may be sure. But understand me: I balk at murder and
burglary. Somehow, the police seem to know me. I'll not do anything that
might lead to a jail sentence, because there are easier ways to get
money. However, I don't imagine your proposed plan is very desperate,
Diana; it's more liable to be dirty work. Never mind; you may command
me, my dear cousin--if the pay is ample."
"The pay will be ample if you succeed," she began.
"I don't like that. I may not succeed."
"Listen to me, Charlie. Do you know Arthur Weldon?"
"Slightly; not very well."
"I intend to marry him. He has paid me marked attentions in the past;
but now--he--"
"Wants to slip the leash. Quite natural, my dear."
"He has become infatuated with another girl; a light-headed,
inexperienced little thing who is likely to marry the first man who asks
her. She is very rich--in her own right, too--and her husband will be a
fortunate man."
Mershone stared at her. Then he whistled, took a few turns up and down
the room, and reseated himself.
"Evidently!" he ejaculated, lighting a cigarette without permission and
then leaning back thoughtfully in his chair.
"Charlie," continued Diana, "you may as well marry Louise Merrick and
settle down to a life of respectability. You've a dashing, masterful way
which no girl of her sort can long resist. I propose that you make
desperate love to Louise Merrick and so cut Arthur Weldon out of the
deal entirely. My part of the comedy will be to attract him to my side
again. Now you have the entire proposition in a nutshell."
He smoked for a time in reflective silence.
"What's the girl like?" he enquired, presently. "Is she attractive?"
"Sufficiently so to fascinate Arthur Weldon. Moreover, she has just been
introduced in our set, and knows nothing of your shady past history.
Even if rumors came to her ears, young creatures of her sort often find
a subtle charm in a man accused of being 'naughty.'"
"Humph!"
"If you win her, you get a wife easily managed and a splendid fortune to
squander as you please."
"Sounds interesting, Di, doesn't it? But--"
"In regard to preliminary expenses," she interrupted, calmly, "I have
said that your reward will be ample when you have won the game. But
meantime I am willing to invest the necessary funds in the enterprise. I
will allow you a thousand a month." "Bah! that's nothing at all!" said
he, contemptuously, as he flicked the ashes from his cigarette.
"What do you demand, then?"
"Five hundred a week, in advance. It's an expensive job, Di."
"Very well; I will give you five hundred a week; but only as long as you
work earnestly to carry out the plot. I shall watch you, Charlie. And
you must not lose sight of the ultimate reward."
"I won't, my sweet cousin. It's a bargain," he said, readily enough.
"When do I begin, and what's the program?"
"Draw your chair nearer," said Diana, restraining her triumphant joy.
"I'll explain everything to you in detail. It will be my part to plan,
and yours to execute."
"Good!" he exclaimed, with a cheerful grin. "I feel like an executioner
already!"