VIII
The Burrells came face to face with their hostess in the wide hall. “I wondered what had happened to you,” said Helen, leaving West, who strolled into the billiard-room, and joining the group. “Have the girls been enjoying themselves?” she asked, turning, with a smile, from the mother to the three daughters.
“Oh, yes, we’ve all been having a lovely time!” Mrs. Burrell replied, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.
“Oh, yes, lovely!” the girls cried together.
“Of course,” Mrs. Burrell went on, with a wistful look, “after my daughters get better acquainted they’ll have more partners.”
“Ma!” exclaimed Carrie Cora.
“But let me introduce you to some of the gentlemen,” said Helen, solicitously. “We’ll go back into the drawing-room.”
“No,” Burrell interposed. “We must gohome. We ought to have gone long ago. I’m sorry not to have had a chance to talk with your husband about that law case of mine, Mrs. Briggs.”
“I’ll speak to him about it,Mr.Burrell,” said Helen. “Now that Congress is nearly ready to adjourn, he’ll have more time. Is it to come before the New York courts?”
The old man nodded. “Those New York men have infringed on my patents, confound ’em! Mrs. Briggs, there ain’t anybody else I’d trust as I do your husband. He’s been a brick to me ever since I come here. He’s the only one of the big fellows in Congress that’s taken any notice of me, an’ I guess I appreciate it. An’ the girls, they think you’re just perfect.”
“I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more for you,Mr.Burrell,” said Helen, with a smile.
Mrs. Burrell led the way toward the staircase, the others following, with the exception of Carrie Cora.
“Oh, Mrs. Briggs!” the girl exclaimed, impulsively, “I have something to tell you. But I—I mustn’t stay a minute.”
“What is it, dear?”
“He’s come to Washington,” Carrie Cora whispered. “He got here this morning.”
“Why didn’t you bring him to-night?”
“I wanted to,” Carrie Cora replied, breathlessly. “I wanted him to meet you. I’ve told him so much about you, and what a help you’ve been to me. But I was afraid of ma. She was furious when he came to the hotel. He sent his card up, just as bold, and ma didn’t want to let me go down to see him. But I did. And oh, he’s—he’s just as handsome as ever!”
She turned her face away, to hide the tears in her eyes.
“My poor girl,” said Helen, taking her hand.
It was at an afternoon tea that the strange girl had confided to Helen Briggs the story of her baffled love-affair. Since that time Helen had often thought of it with a pity none the less real because it had the relief of amusement.
“And he wanted me to go right out, just as I was, and get married. He said he’d call a carriage.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, dear,” said Helen, trying to keep from smiling.
“I think I would have gone—only I just had my every-day dress on, and I looked horrid! Itseemed so foolish to go like that. And now I’m sorry I didn’t. I never shall have the courage again.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, because ma says that I’m not to see him any more. She made an awful fuss. That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. Won’t you please talk to ma? He’s just as good as he can be, and even if he isn’t very successful he earns enough for two. That’s all I care about.”
“But what can I say to your mother, dear? I don’t even know him.”
Carrie Cora looked down and began to rub the carpet with her foot. “Well, ma thinks everything of you, and if you’d just—just ask her to let him come to see me, that would be something. I’m sure she’ll like him when she understands him better. Pa likes him, but pa is afraid to oppose ma in anything, except when he gets roused.”
Helen patted the girl’s hand affectionately. “Well, dear, I’ll go to see your mother to-morrow. I’ll take her out for a drive. Then we can have a good talk together.”
Carrie Cora impulsively threw her arms around Helen’s neck. “Oh, Mrs. Briggs!” she cried. Then she drew back, ashamed. “It’s silly of meto act like this, isn’t it, before all these people? But I must go now. They’ll wonder what has happened to me. Good-night, dear Mrs. Briggs.”
During Helen’s talk with the girl Franklin West had appeared at the back of the hall with M. de Lange, whom he seemed to know. As soon as the girl disappeared the two men walked toward Helen.
The Frenchman drew his heels together and made another of his low bows, which West observed with the amused superiority of the American, scornful of decorative politeness.
“I have been waiting to say good-night, madame. Your reception, it is most beautiful! The flowers, the pretty women! Ah, you Americans, you are wonderful!”
West interposed coolly: “Well, we do things in pretty good style over here, that’s a fact.”
M. de Lange looked bewildered. Then his face shone.
“Ah, yes. It is—it issuperbe. Such beautifultoilettes! And your women—they are so many—so——”
West threw back his head. “Yes, we certainly have a great many,” he said, with a laugh.
The bewildered look returned to the Frenchman’sface. “So many—so beautiful, I mean, so charming. And so many kinds! So different! Your Washington—it is a marvel.”
Helen extended her hand.
“You are very good to say so. But I’m sorry you’re leaving.”
“Au revoir, madame.” He glanced at West and bowed once more. “Monsieur!”
West looked relieved. “Perhaps now we can have a moment together,” he said to Helen. “I have something to say to you. Will you come into the library?”
Helen hesitated. “But only for a moment,” she said. When she had entered the room and taken a seat she asked, in a matter-of-fact tone: “What is it?”
“A few moments ago you told me that you weren’t able to make me out,” West said, slowly.
Helen smiled good-humoredly. “Not quite that, I think. I hadn’t triedveryhard.”
“You said you didn’t understand what kind of man I really was.”
Helen moved uneasily. “I really think I ought to go back. You must tell me these things some other time.”
“Wait a minute. I may not have anotherchance to see you alone to-night. There is something I must say to you now.”
Helen drew a long breath and turned slightly paler.
“I must tell you what it means to me to be near you.”
Helen kept her eyes turned from him. “I don’t understand you,” she said, quietly.
West let his hand rest on her arm. “You don’t understand?”
Helen turned and faced him. “No,” she replied, coldly.
“Do you mean that you haven’t understood all along how I felt toward you?” For a moment they faced each other in silence.
“Please take your hand off my arm,” said Helen.
“Why don’t you answer?” West insisted.
Helen drew her arm away.
“Because, as I have told you before, there are some things that are better not said.”
“Then you’ve known?”
“Yes, I’ve known.” Helen did not flinch. “I’ve suspected.”
“Why have you allowed me to come here, then?”
“Because,” Helen replied, slowly, as if measuring her words, “I thought you would never dare to speak to me as you’ve just done. And if you go on I shall have to call my husband. Before that becomes necessary I must ask you to leave here.”
West assumed an attitude of contemptuous indifference. “Thank you, but I prefer to stay.”
“You will not go?”
West folded his arms. “No.”
Helen turned toward the electric bell.
“Don’t touch that bell,” said West, authoritatively.
She faced him as if fascinated. He could hear her breathe. “Now, you won’t call the servants, and you won’t tell your husband anything about this conversation. In the first place, your servants are really my servants.”
Helen shrank back. “Oh!” she said.
“They are paid with my money,” West went on, with a grim smile. “So I think I may call them mine.”
“How contemptible of you!”
West lifted his shoulders. “Well, perhaps I am contemptible. It all depends on the point of view, I suppose. Now, you don’t consider yourhusband contemptible, and yet he’s worse than I am. I don’t pretend to be any better than I am.”
“I’ll let you say these things to his face,” Helen replied, starting to leave the room.
West stood between her and the door. “If you make a scene here, Mrs. Briggs, you’ll simply disgrace yourself and you’ll ruin your husband. Can’t you see what you’re doing? Your husband has been in my pay ever since he came to Washington. But for me, do you suppose you could live in all this luxury? Why, this very ball to-night has cost more than half his salary. All those stories that they tell about him are true, do you understand?—only they’re not half as bad as the stories I could tell. If the whole truth were known he’d be held up before all the country as a thief and a hypocrite. But for me he’d be a petty country lawyer in the backwoods that you came from. I gave him his chance; I’ve made him what he is. I’ve favored him more than anyone else in his position since he came here, for your sake, because I loved you. He knew that, and he’s been playing on the knowledge.” He released her hands. “I hope you’re satisfied now.”
Helen sank weakly into a chair.
“Shall I ring for your husband, Mrs. Briggs?” West asked, with satirical politeness.
Douglas Briggs, who had just learned from Fanny that his wife was in the library, happened to be outside, in the hall. He overheard West’s last remark.
“Ring for me!” he repeated, as he entered the room. “What’s the matter?”
“Mrs. Briggs is feeling a little faint, I think,” said West, with perfect composure. “So I suggested that we send for you.”
“Are you ill, Helen?” Briggs asked, anxiously.
“No. It’s—it’s nothing. If you will take me out on the balcony I shall feel better.” Helen passed her hand over her forehead. “It’s so close here.”
Briggs passed his arm around his wife’s waist and walked slowly toward the door. As he left the room he turned. “Make yourself at home, West,” he said.
When they reached the balcony Helen let her hand rest on the rail and drew a long breath. “It was so dreadfully hot in there!” she said, with a twinge of conscience at the covert deceit. But she felt she must keep the cause of her agitation from her husband; at any rate, until she had time to think and to decide what to do. If she were to speak now of the insult she had received, she felt sure that nothing would keep Douglas from attacking West and driving him from the house. She must do everything she could to prevent a scandal.
I don’t pretend to be any better than I am.
“‘I don’t pretend to be any better than I am.’”
“We’ll have to send you back to Waverly, dear, and get some more color into those cheeks of yours.” Briggs took his wife’s hand. “Why, you’re trembling!” he said.
“Oh, it’s nothing, dear, nothing. I shall feel perfectly well in a minute.” She let him draw her close to him, and they stood together in silence. “We must go back, Douglas. Some of the people must be looking for us. I’m all right now.”
“If you feel faint again let me know, or go out of that hot drawing-room,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on you, anyway.”