But when Gloria ran into her house, Ranghild told her that Dick had
phoned to say that he was going to stay downtown for dinner with some
men from out of town.
"And Mrs. Gregory telephoned just a minute ago. She wants you to
call her as soon as possible," Ranghild said primly.
Gloria sat down at the telephone table and looked up Mother Gregory's
telephone number. Slowly and unwillingly she took the receiver from
its hook.
Mother Gregory herself answered the telephone.
"I want to see you, Gloria," she said in her quick, business-like
way. "Can you run over here for a minute or two?"
"I suppose so," Gloria answered, and hung up the receiver.
Maggie opened the door of Mother Gregory's large and Imposing house
for Gloria.
"How do you do, Maggie?" Gloria said as naturally as she could.
Maggie nodded grimly.
"Mrs. Gregory is in the front parlor, ma'am," she said.
Gloria drew in a long breath, as the dark red curtains of the
old-fashioned room dropped behind her.
Mother Gregory was sitting in a Sleepy Hollow chair before the fire.
The parlor with its heavy walnut furniture and oil paintings was in
shadow.
"Did you want me for anything ... special?" Gloria faltered. She was
afraid of Mother Gregory as she never had been afraid of anybody
before in all her life.
"Something very special ... if you call it that!" the older woman
snapped. The thin nostrils of her Roman nose dilated, angrily.
"Who ... who was that man you had in your car out in the country this
afternoon?" she asked. "And what were you doing in such a
God-forsaken spot with him?"
"Oh, it's not so God-forsaken as all that!" Gloria answered with all
the courage she could command. "You were there, weren't you?"
"Yes, and on a perfectly good errand ... collecting the rent from the
tenant out on our farm," Mother Gregory answered. "Now, I've been
frank with you ... you be frank with me! Who was the man?"
"You wouldn't know him ... Stanley Wayburn, the actor," Gloria
answered. She lifted her head and went on bravely.
"I just happened to bump into him ... and offered him a lift," she
said. "What makes you always think the worst of me?"
Mother Gregory looked at Gloria for a full minute before she answered.
"Well, on this particular occasion," she said, "the thing that makes
me think so badly of you is that I plainly saw the fellow's arm
around you, Gloria! I was right behind your car for a good half-mile
before your friend saw me."
"Spying on me!" Gloria cried disdainfully. "A fine thing to do!"
Mother Gregory laughed with grim triumph.
"You'll stand a little watching, I guess, young woman!" she said.
"And now, look here, I'm not going to Dick with this tale. I'm going
to let him find you out for himself..."
"He wouldn't believe you if you did tell him. And that's all that
stops you! Don't think for a minute I don't know it!" interrupted
Gloria. "And another thing ... Mr. Wayburn did not have his arm
around me when you saw us! It may have been lying along the back of
the seat, but that's all ... I'll tell Dick about it, myself."
She turned on her heel and went out of the house.
Gloria intended to tell Dick all about her chance meeting with
Stanley Wayburn, that night.
But when he came home long after midnight, he told her that he was
going out of town for two or three days on business. And she forgot
about Wayburn, for the time.
"I'm going to borrow Ranghild's alarm clock," Dick said. "I've got
to get up at six to-morrow morning. I think I'll pack my bag
to-night."
Gloria watched him sleepily as he moved around the room, folding
shirts and underclothing into his kit.
"Aren't you sorry for the way you talked to me to-day down in your
office?" she asked.
"Sure I'm sorry. I was a brute," Dick said shortly. He did not kiss
her, or make a move to come near her.
In the morning when Gloria awoke he was gone.
While she was having her coffee the telephone rang.
"I'm psychic ... I knew it was you," Gloria lilted when she heard
Stanley Wayburn's deep voice saying "Hello."
"Are you going to be home this afternoon?" Stan asked. "An actor out
of a job is a pretty lonely fellow. I need cheering up, Russet."
"And cheering up you shall have," Gloria cooed. "How about three
o'clock?"
"Three o'clock is a long way off, but it will do," answered Stan.
"I'll see you then, Russet."
Gloria had hardly set the phone down on the bedside table before its
bell whirred again. This time it was May Seymour calling.
"What are you doing with yourself, old thing?" May asked. "Want to
go downtown for lunch and a movie?"
Gloria giggled.
"I can't, darling," she said. "I have a heavy date with the
best-looking man in the world at three o'clock."
There was a long silence.
"I think you're kidding me, Gloria." May's voice when it came over
the wire, was puzzled.
"No, I'm not. Honest Injun, Stan Wayburn is coming here this
afternoon to have a cup of tea with me," she said.
"What'll Dick say?"
"Dick won't know. He's gone out of town on business," answered
Gloria. "He's peeved to death at me, anyway, just now, because I
spent a bit of his hoarded cash. I don't think he cares what I do as
long as I don't bother him...."
"Well," May remarked thoughtfully, "your friend Wayburn is
good-looking, but I'd be careful if I were you. There are queer
stories floating around about him. The men don't like him."
Gloria didn't answer.
"I think I'll come over to chaperon you, baby," May said suddenly.
"Perhaps I'll bring Jim along, so it won't look queer to your
play-acting friend.... We'll make it a regular, sure-'nough party."
When Ranghild came upstairs for the breakfast tray Gloria told her
she could have the afternoon off.
"But before you go make a lot of sandwiches, please," she said. "And
see that there's a good fire burning in the living-room. And phone
the drug store for some cigarettes."
Gloria couldn't make up her mind which of her new dresses to wear
that afternoon. She stood thoughtfully before her clothes-closet.
Not the black velvet. She had worn that the afternoon before.
The old-rose? ... No.
Gloria took the peacock blue gown from its hanger.
She held it against her, and walked over to the mirror.
Yes, she would wear that. It made her amber eyes look almost green,
her hair like molten copper. It was what May called a "mean" dress!
Gloria put it on.
She brushed all the wave from her hair and bound it close around her
head with a silver ribbon.
"A bit over-dressed, but ... stunning just the same," she said to the
image of herself in the long mirror.
When Gloria trailed downstairs, Ranghild stared.
"I've been trying to get the drug store on the wire, but the phone is
out of order, I think," the maid said, her eyes wide with admiration.
"Shall I go next door to telephone?"
"No, never mind," Gloria told her. "Be sure to lock the kitchen door
behind you when you go out."
She went into the living-room and sat down before the fire, trying to
read. But the words danced before her eyes.
She was waiting with all her senses for Stanley Wayburn's coming.