"But you must have," Eve answered.
"No; almost never. I am going up-stairs for a moment, Eve. Don't come
with me."
When she returned, more music was going on. As soon as she could, Eve
said, inquiringly, "Well?"
"It was from Ferdie."
"Is he coming back?"
"Yes," responded Cicely, unmoved.
Eve's thoughts had flown to her own plans. But she found time to think,
"What a cold little creature it is, after all!"
At that moment they could say no more.
About midnight, when Eve was in her own room, undressing, there was a
tap at the door, and Cicely entered. She had taken off her dress; a
forlorn little blue shawl was drawn tightly round her shoulders.
She walked to the dressing-table, where Eve was sitting, took up a
brush, and looked at it vaguely. "I didn't mean to tell any one; but I
have changed my mind, I am going to tell you." Putting down the brush,
she let the shawl fall back. There across her white breast was a long
purple scar, and a second one over her delicate little shoulder. "He did
it," she said. Her eyes, fixed upon Eve's, were proud and brilliant.
"You don't mean--you don't mean that your _husband_--" stammered Eve, in
horror.
"Yes, Ferdie. He did it."
"Is he mad?"
"Only after he has been drinking."
"Oh, you poor little thing!" said Eve, taking her in her arms
protectingly. "I have been so hard to you, Cicely, so cruel! But I did
not know--I did not know." Her tears flowed.
"I am telling you on account of baby," Cicely went on, in the same
unmoved tone.
"Has he dared to touch baby?" said Eve, springing up.
"Yes, Eve; he broke poor baby's little arm; of course when he did not
know what he was doing. When he gets that way he does not know us; he
thinks we are enemies, and he thinks it is his duty to attack us. Once
he put us out-of-doors--baby and me--in the middle of the night, with
only our night-dresses on; fortunately it wasn't very cold. That time,
and the time he broke baby's arm (he seized him by the arm and flung him
out of his crib), we were not in Savannah; we were off by ourselves for
a month, we three. Baby was so young that the bone was easily set.
Nobody ever knew about it, I never told. But--but it must not happen
again." She looked at Eve with the same unmoved gaze.
"I should rather think not! Give him to me, Cicely, and let me take him
away--at least for the present. You know you said--"
"I said 'perhaps.' But I cannot let him go now--not just now. I am
telling you what has happened because you really seem to care for him."
"I think I have showed that I care for him!"
"Well, I have let you."
"What are we to do, then, if you won't let me take him away?" said Eve,
in despair. "Will that man come here?"
"He may. He will go to Savannah, and if he learns there that I am here,
he may follow me. But he will never go to Romney, he doesn't like
Romney; even in the beginning, when I begged him to go, he never would.
He--" She paused.
"Jealous, I suppose," suggested the sister, with a bitter
laugh--"jealous of Jack's poor bones in the burying-ground. Your two
ghosts will have a duel, Cicely."
"Oh, _Ferdie_ isn't dead!" said Cicely, with sudden terror. She grasped
Eve's arm. "Have you heard anything? Tell me--tell me."
Eve looked at her.
"Yes, I love him," said Cicely, answering the look. "I have loved him
ever since the first hour I saw him. It's more than love; it's
adoration."
"You never said that of Jack."
"No; for it wouldn't have been true."
The two women faced each other--the tall Eve, the dark little wife.
"Oh, if I could only get away from this hideous country--this whole
horrible South!" said Eve, walking up and down the room like a caged
tigress.
"You would like him if you knew him," Cicely went on, gently. "It seldom
happens--that other; and when it doesn't happen, Eve--"
Eve put out her hand with a repelling gesture. "Let me take baby and
go."
"Not now. But he will be safe at Romney."
"In Heaven's name, then, let us get him back to Romney."
"Yes; to-morrow."
Little Jack was asleep in his crib by the side of Eve's bed, for she
still kept him with her at night. Cicely went to the crib and looked at
her child; Eve followed her.
The little boy's night-dress had fallen open, revealing one shoulder and
arm. "It was just here," whispered Cicely, kneeling down and softly
touching the baby-flesh. She looked up at Eve, her eyes thick with
tears.
"Why, you care?" said Eve. "Care for him?--the baby, I mean." She spoke
her thoughts aloud, unwittingly.
"Did you think I didn't care?" asked Cicely, with a smile.
It was the strangest smile Eve had ever seen.