A MUTINOUS ACTOR
John Ogden waited long enough to shake his fist toward the closed door
before he turned back to regard Hugh, who, with features refined by
illness, perfectly groomed, and grandly arrayed, seemed to him a new
person. The gloomy expression in the eyes, however, warned him.
“Sit down again, Hugh,” he forced the tall fellow back into the white
easy-chair, “and let me speak first.”
Hugh sat down perforce, but with a belligerent expression. “No, sir. I’m
going to do all the speaking,” he said. “You got me into this and you’ve
got to get me out.”
“Now, now, boy”—Ogden drew the nearest chair forward and dropped into it.
“I expected I might find you a bit morbid—”
“Morbid!” explosively. “Me with a nurse! Me being stuffed four times a
day with the delicacies of the season! Me dressed up like a Christmas
doll! I don’t need anything but a wrap of tissue paper and a sprig of
holly to be ready for delivery; and me a liar all the time—”
“Look here, Hugh”—John Ogden faced the indignation in the dark eyes.
“Did you notice my escort as I came in? And is he on such intimate terms
with you that he bolts into your room without ceremony?”
“We’re on no terms at all. I despise the little cockatoo and he hates me—”
“He has reason,” put in Ogden with a nod.
“I’d like to know why. I haven’t done anything to him.”
“Oh, yes, you have.” John Ogden spoke slowly.
“What, I’d like to know?”
“You’ve delayed the settling of the estate—unwarrantably,
and—indefinitely.”
Hugh stared, and then broke forth hotly. “Oh, look here, that’s a darned
mean thing to say!”
“I think he’s a darned mean little man,” returned Ogden calmly. “Now
we’ve got to look this ground all over, if I’m to get you out of here.
How comes on Sukey the Freak?”
Hugh’s face flushed. “She’s a wonder, and a sport,” he answered. “If she
wasn’t so infernally grateful to me for breaking my arm, she’d be all
right.”
“Well, I think the Queen of Farrandale likes her job pretty well. You
probably did help her to keep it, you know.”
“Oh, well, I’m sick of hearing about it,” said Hugh restlessly, “and
if she knew who I am I could stand all this pampering better; but
it’s degrading to be waited on, and stuffed, and having to accept
presents when—when I’m deceiving her; and I warn you”—he began speaking
faster—“I’m not going to stand it, and I just waited to see you. Miss
Damon, the nurse, is a good scout, but I hate the sight of her. I want to
be let alone. My arm is all right”—he moved it about—“a little weak, but
here’s my right all the time.”
“But you went off your head, my dear boy, and shouted for Aunt Sukey till
you brought tears from a bronze image.” Ogden didn’t dare to laugh. “It
rests with me to bring her here right now.”
“Yes, and you think that’s very funny, I suppose.”
“I think that such a début as you made in the rôle I planned for you
was little short of miraculous; and to give it up and leave it would be
flying in the face of Providence.”
“I don’t care whose face I fly in. I’m strong enough to move out of here,
and I’m going.”
Ogden regarded him thoughtfully from the thatch of auburn waves down to
his jeweled satin feet.
“If a film-producer should come in here now, you would never be allowed
to learn the department-store business,” he said. “I’ll wager that Miss
Frink is having a romance—rather late in life, I admit, but it goes all
the deeper.”
Hugh shook his head gravely. “Don’t make any fun of her. Whatever she did
to my father, she has been wonderful to me. I’ll be ashamed to face her
when the truth comes out.”
“By that time you won’t, boy. Grimshaw is so jealous of you that it shows
your work is well begun.”
“Ugh! The meanness of it,” said Hugh repugnantly. “She is so frank and
honest that it’s disgusting to be plotting against her. Grimshaw has got
it all over me. He’s in his own cockatoo colors when all’s said and done;
but I”—the speaker lifted a fold of his rich robe and dropped it with a
groan.
“I’m pleased that you like Miss Frink so much,” said Ogden, ignoring
this. “Everything will come out all right. Everybody confined to a
sick-room gets morbid.” The speaker looked about the spacious apartment,
and through a door ajar had a glimpse of the silver and tile of the
bathroom. “Isn’t the house charming?”
“I don’t know,” replied Hugh curtly. “I know when I once get out of it
I’ll never see it again.”
Ogden smiled. “My actor is more temperamental than an opera star,” he
mused aloud. “Promise me one thing, boy; I think you owe me that much.
Promise me you won’t take any step without forewarning me.”
“Of course I owe it to you,” said Hugh bitterly. “I owe everybody. I’ve
been the most appalling expense both to you and Miss Frink, it makes me
sick to think of it when I don’t know how I can ever get even.”
“You’ll get even with me by just doing what I say,” returned the other
forcefully. “Of course, I haven’t seen you and Miss Frink together yet,
but I’m certain you have been and are being a wonderful event in her
life. She has been the loneliest woman I ever knew except on her business
side. Look at this perfectly appointed house. I never heard of any
entertaining here, nor even a passing guest. It took somebody with the
nerve to come in and go right to bed and stay.”
Hugh drew a long breath, and felt that he should never like John Ogden
again. He might be a ne’er-do-well himself, but at least he had a sense
of honor.
“But, by the way, I found the record broken to-day,” went on Ogden.
“I was much surprised to find Miss Frink had a niece, and that she is
staying here: a Mrs. Reece—or I think she said it was Lumbard or some
such name, now.”
“Yes, I shall have to divide the fortune with one person.”
John Ogden laughed cheerfully. The statement came so tragically from
between clenched teeth. “Have you met her?” he continued.
“No; but I heard her play yesterday. She’s a wizard, even if she has got
white hair as the nurse told me.”
Ogden gave his head a quick shake. “Don’t be misled by that white hair.
I’ve met her several times in the South; and she is just about the last
person on earth that I should expect to turn out to be Miss Frink’s
niece. In fact”—the speaker paused reflectively—“I must say I can’t help
doubting the fact.”
“Oh, yes. I suppose you think she’s an impostor like me.”
“Not like you, at any rate.”
“Any one as strictly honorable as Miss Frink makes an easy prey,”
declared Hugh severely, “but it would be a little hard to get away with
the false declaration by a woman that she is her niece.”
“A niece more incredible than a nephew, you think?” said Ogden cheerfully.
This persistent light-heartedness was met with a scowl.
“You and I can’t hope to look at this matter alike, Mr. Ogden. You see
something amusing in hoodwinking one of the finest, most straightforward
women who ever lived in the world—”
“Bully! Bully! Bully!” ejaculated the other. “Better than I could have
hoped. Now, hold your horses, boy, you’ve proved you know how, and you’re
going to be smiling at me instead of scowling a little later.”
“She’s killing me with kindness,” burst forth the convalescent
obstreperously. “She means well; but, thunder, how bored I am!”
“This is the end of it,” replied Ogden. “We’ll get rid of the nurse. I
can stay a few days and give you what assistance you need, and in a very
short time you will be an independent citizen and have the run of the
house.”
“The run of the house”—scornfully. “Like a tame cat. I suppose you think
I’ll be shut in, nights.”
A knock on the door was followed by the entrance of the nurse with a tray
whose contents made John Ogden hungry. Hugh regarded it gloomily. The
ignominious fact was that his appetite waxed daily.
“Miss Damon, this is my friend, Mr. Ogden, come on from New York to get
me out of here.”
The nurse smiled and went on deftly arranging the tray. “He will do that
very easily now, Mr. Stanwood. In fact, I don’t think I’m needed any
longer, and I’ve had a summons to-day to a very sick woman, and I am
hoping Miss Frink will let me go at once. She seemed so unwilling for me
to leave.”
“Yes, indeed. Yes, yes,” exclaimed her patient eagerly. “There’s nothing
for you to stay for. It’s utter nonsense. Of course, you shall leave.
I’ll insist upon it.”
“And I can stay a little while,” said Ogden, “and give Mr. Si—Stanwood
any assistance he needs.”
“Miss Frink is out just now, but I think I’ll be packing up my things and
be all ready when she comes.”
“By all means,” said Hugh, and Miss Damon vanished into a dressing-room.
“You said you had a letter from Carol.”
“Yes.” Ogden took it from his pocket. “Don’t let your broth get cold. The
letter has waited this long. A few minutes more won’t mean anything.”
“Oh, hers are always short. Let me have it.”
Hugh opened the letter and glanced over it frowningly. “Poor little
Carol!” he exclaimed; then he read aloud to an absorbed listener:
DEAR HUGH,
The end has come for Alfred. I am sure you will not be
surprised to hear it. I have known for months it must come
and have braced myself to bear it. I am glad he always let me
know the inside of his affairs, and, from the time his illness
started, I set myself to learn the business so I could take his
place. Alfred’s partner, Mr. Ferry, I never wholly liked and
trusted. I do not feel sure of his loyalty, and for the sake of
my children I feel I must guard every step of my business way.
I do not say this to trouble you, or make you feel you must
come to me. You could not help me by coming, and it is a long,
expensive journey. I promise to tell you if I see any definite
cause for anxiety. Don’t worry about me, dear. I am well and so
are both the children; but let me hear from you soon.
Your loving sister
CAROL
Hugh looked up. John Ogden’s eyes were shining.
“There’s only one Carol,” he said.
“I’m a nice support for a sister to lean on,” said Hugh bitterly. “And
this letter is two weeks old.”
“I will attend to that with a wire,” said Ogden.
“You’ll tell her not to write to me, I suppose,” said Hugh with a sneer.
“No, I’ll tell her to write in my care, as you are recovering from a
slight illness.”
“I told you, in the first place, what Carol would think of this whole
performance.”
“I shall convert her,” declared Ogden. “I shall write to her to-night.
Eat your luncheon, Hugh, and go on trusting in me.”
“Ho! Trusting!” muttered Hugh.