“A trifle inconvenient, isn’t it? I might lend you the rose toque I bought in Paris.”
“Indeed you won’t, it exactly matches your gown and you look dear in it. I’ll wear a bow in my hair or something.” A bow, to Julie, always filled any discrepancy.
Hester arrested her in the act of trying this effect before the mirror and sat her down brusquely in a chair.
“Give me that bow,” she commanded, “and keep still.I’ll make a hat on your head!Bridget, you get down her picture hat quick, and rip off the tips and the band of jet and some lace and we’ll fix her up in a jiffy!”
It was a wonderful creation—just a bit of lace and jet and ribbon with never a stitch in it, all fastened with hairpins to Julie’s curly head. Two white ostrich tips stood up saucily at the side, a few violets were coquettishly stuck in the back and the effect was immensely modish and becoming.
“Hold your head high all the evening and don’t toss it about for your life!” warned Hester. “If you do, the whole thing will fall to pieces.”
“That’s a cheerful prospect,” commented Julie, surveying herself in the glass. “Can’t you put in more hairpins?”
“You’ve got about a million now.” Hester’s imagination never failed her.
“Shure you look beautiful, Miss Julie, dear,” said Bridget, “and it ain’t goin’ to come to pieces—Miss Hester’s only teasin’ yer.”
Five minutes later they were rolling through the storm in Mrs. Lennox’s brougham.
“Hester,” whispered Julie from the depths of her luxurious corner, “Inever tramped out in the wet to-night to deliver a club supper, did you?”
“Certainly not,” squeezing her hand hard, “who ever heard of such a thing!”
Something very like a tremor of nervous excitement pervaded the girls as their names were announced on the threshold of Mrs. Lennox’s drawing-room. Their entrance attracted immediate attention. Mrs. Lennox received them as Mrs. Lennox would, with most charming cordiality, yet not too pronounced lest they be made to feel that their coming was not a matter of common occurrence. She made a mental note of the fact that her protégés had never looked prettier and was immensely pleased with their poise and perfect self-possession under what she knew must be for them something of an ordeal. If she could have looked into Julie’s heart she would have discovered a shyness in coming among these people that amounted to positive pain; but who would ever have suspected it from that smiling exterior and that proud tilt of the head?
As for Hester, from the moment a woman who was one of their customers bowed to her in a puzzled sort of way and then whispered so loud that every one about her could hear, “Why it’s those Dale girls!”—from that moment Hester’s spirit of deviltry awoke and she determined to outshine every girl in the room.
Mrs. Lennox immediately presented half a dozen men who formed a little group about them and presently she steered them all toward some chairs preparatory to settling down to hear the music. As they crossed the room several women with whom they had had business dealings, bowed to them cordially. In a corner on a tête-à-tête seat sat Jessie Davis with Kenneth Landor. Both looked up as the party approached and Landor gave a half-stifled exclamation. Hester’s luminous eyes swept by the girl and into the man’s face with such a distracting smile that he was on his feet in a second.
“How do you do?” she said sweetly, just the suspicion of a smile still lurking about the corners of her mouth while she extended her hand cordially.
The man took it in an eager clasp and blessed the Fates for this propitious moment. “This is charming,” he said. “It is a great pleasure to see you.”
“Yes, is it not?” naïvely. “Julie, here is Mr.Landor,” bringing him into the circle quite as if he were an old friend.
Genuinely glad to see him, Julie showed it unreservedly. All the men knew him and envied him his luck as the little party found seats together.
“You must not let us break up your tête-à-tête,” remonstrated the wicked Hester with a glance in the direction of the divan where Miss Davis sat deserted.
Miss Davis, gazing into space, heard and bit her lip with vexation. She thought the airs the little upstart gave herself were intolerable. What could Mrs. Lennox be thinking of to bring those Dale girls into society?
But Landor did not go back to her. Man fashion, he pleased himself by becoming Hester’s shadow during the remainder of the evening, though he was not allowed to monopolize her—far from it. He had to content himself with scraps of conversation, for every man in the room wanted to be presented and each found her so diverting and original that there was constantly a little crowd about her, while in the intervals of the music peals of merry laughter came from her corner of the room.
Julie, who was holding a little court of her own, could hear her and rejoice, and she was especially glad that this should be so when laterin the evening Miss Ware, escorted by her brother, entered the room. She recognized the girls and was conscious of their success five minutes after her arrival and there was within her something like envy of Mrs. Lennox who had been the first to take into the elect these social renegades.
As for Dr. Ware, he threw himself with enthusiasm into the gayety of Hester’s corner, vying with the younger men in jests and laughter. Later he sauntered down the room, stopping on the way to chat with this person and that, and sought out Julie, who, though she greeted him so smilingly seemed to him suddenly remote. It was as if she had slipped away into a younger world than his and an indefinable sensation awoke within him, filling him with unrest. Partly because of this and partly because the pleasure in her evident pleasure was so great, he lingered near her, giving her that quiet, unobtrusive attention which his old friendship warranted. And Julie liked to have him near. She was glad that he smiled so approvingly upon her, happy that this little frivolity was given the additional delight of his presence. For it was all delightfully frivolous and gay, though Julie’s excitement and animation were naturally somewhat tempered by her headgear, especially as every now and then when she forgot herself and nodded herhead emphatically over something, Hester would give her a warning glance. Poor Julie! the “proud and haughty” tilt became very trying, but itwasdistinguished and caused Mr. Lennox, who was most critical, likewise somewhat horsey, to confide to his wife afterward that she was a thoroughbred.
“I hope you’ll have them often,” he said, when the last guest had departed and they had settled down before the library fire to talk it over. “After the cut-and-dried young people one usually meets they are perfectly refreshing. I had a long talk with the blonde one—is she Julie?—during supper about Arizona. Found myself telling her all about my irrigation schemes out there. Fancy finding a young girl who understands such things! She knows that country well and gave me an idea or two worth considering.”
“I should like to have them often, John, but they won’t come. Their work engrosses them to the exclusion of everything; it has to be so—they need all their strength to get through the days. I understand it perfectly. Did you notice how people were all in a flutter about them? I fancy I have given Radnor something to talk about!”
“Oh! well, that is not unusual. Do you mean to say people have cut them? It seems incredible in these enlightened days.”
“It is true, nevertheless, though Julie told me the other day that their customers were showing the kindest possible interest in their work and encouraging them by renewed orders; that every one showed them courtesy and consideration in a business way, but I happen to know, though she did not say so, that there it stops. The line is distinctly drawn. None of the daughters of those women show any inclination to renew their acquaintance with the girls, though many of them were their playfellows years ago.”
“Well, they’re a disgrace to their sex, that is all I’ve got to say—I’ve no patience with that sort of thing!” Mr. Lennox put down a half-smoked cigar and pushed back his chair. “They were the success of the evening, Mabel, and I am proud to know them. It strikes me,” slyly, “there were others who succumbed to their fascinations. Landor, for instance, and Dr. Ware—”
“Oh, he is their father’s oldest friend.”
“And Renshawe, who displayed surprising interest in Arizona when he found us talking about it. Have you ever known him to care a hang about Arizona before?”
“No,” laughed his wife, “but Sidney Renshawe always rises to the occasion when he is interested. Principally it is Virginia he talks about now. By the way, he is expecting Monsieur Grémondback from California any day. Did you know?”
“I was glad to have a chance to speak to her of her father, too,” said Mr. Lennox, who apparently had not heeded his wife’s last remarks. “I knew Mr. Dale somewhat at the club and regretted his collapse as we all did. She had such a pretty proud look when I spoke of him, as if I couldn’t say too much. I felt as if I would like to take her off to some quiet corner and talk to her by the hour together.”
“So you shall, my dear. Together we will lay siege and capture them again. I should like to give a dinner for them soon.
“Oh! ask them informally when we are not entertaining,” remonstrated her husband who evidently desired to monopolize them.
“Very well, dear, and if it pleases you to watch Julie’s eloquent face—and I assure you Hester’s is equally so—Mr. Dale shall be the chief topic of conversation. I never knew him, but it is a great deal to know his daughters, John.”
Which sentiment being shared by the master of the house the mistress called the midnight session off and they went upstairs.
It was a dismal rainy afternoon, and the work of the day having been finished early the girls were ensconced in their little sitting-room reveling in a well-earned rest. By the way of unusual dissipation a teakettle was hissing on the table, while the freshly filled sugar bowl and bits of lemon told of preparations for the cup that cheers. Stretched out at full length on the floor lay Hester in her favorite attitude. At her feet sprawled Peter Snooks, chewing frantically at a piece of rubber tire which was at once his solace and despair, defying as it did his most strenuous efforts to tear it to bits. Julie, who had donned a negligé and shaken the pins out of her curly hair, was buried in a book, yet with one ear alert lest her father in the adjoining room should stir and want something. Bridget, remarkable to relate, had taken an afternoon out.
Presently Julie dropped her book and curling herself into the depths of the chair was dozing off when Hester said abruptly, “There’s a stranger coming!”
Julie started up and gazed about as if expecting some one to loom up before her.
“There is,” reiterated Hester.
“Is what?” sleepily.
“A stranger coming.”
“How do you know?”
“My nose itches,” announced the younger Dale, rubbing the tip of that saucy feature.
“Nonsense! That’s an old granny’s reason.”
“Can’t help it if it is. There is only one alternative and that is to kiss a fool. You would not exactly class yourself in that category, would you?” turning on her elbow to look at her sister. “Of course if you insist—” and Hester leaned toward her.
Julie gave her a push. “You idiot! go kiss yourself in a mirror.” But the doorbell rang.
Julie bounced from her chair and fled down the hall. Hester stifled her desire to laugh and opened the door on a tall, well-built man who stared as he beheld her.
“Why—this is Mr. Renshawe, is it not?” the girl said with perfect composure though inwardly amazed at seeing him. “Won’t you come in?”
“How do you do—thanks—I—that is—” he stammered helplessly.
“You wish to see my sister, of course,” ushering him in. “We did not meet the other night at Mrs. Lennox’s, did we? but you see I heard about you afterward. I’ll go and call my sister.”
“Oh! no, don’t, please, I beg of you. I mustapologize for this impertinent intrusion—I’ve made some abominable mistake!” In the hand in which he was nervously twisting his hat, Hester caught a glimpse of one of their business cards and in a flash the whole purport of his visit was made clear to her.
“I do not think it is a mistake,” she said naturally. “I imagine you have come to see us on business, have you not? Won’t you sit down, Mr. Renshawe?”
“Oh, may I? Thanks. Do you do business?” he gasped incredulously, glancing from the piquant girl about the pretty room where no suggestion of anything like work was visible.
“Yes,” replied Hester, “all kinds of fancy cooking. Possibly you’ve seen our cards,” she suggested in a desire to help him out.
He produced the one in his hand with the air of a guilty culprit. “Yes, I have,” he confessed. “It was given me this afternoon by the manager of Heath & Co. He knows I give a good many bachelor parties in my chambers and recommended these things. But Miss Dale,” he protested, “I had no idea it was you and your sister—it never occurred to me.”
“Why should it?” asked Hester, “but it is, just the same, and we shall be very glad to fill your order.” She went to a desk and brought forth a pad and pencil in a business-like manner.
He sat watching her with a puzzled, utterly perplexed expression drawing his eye-brows together. Suddenly as she returned to her chair opposite him he cried,
“By Jove! I know now, exactly—that’s just who you are!” looking into her face with evident relief.
Hester wanted to laugh and say “Is it?” to this ambiguous remark but having assumed her formal business manner she maintained a discreet silence and waited for him to explain.
“You are little Miss Driscoe’s cousin!” he announced.
“Are you the Radnor man who has been visiting at the Blake’s plantation?” cried Hester impulsively, forgetting in her excitement that he was to be kept on a strictly business footing.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” was his smiling reply. “I’ve been there several times this past winter; in fact I came up from there only last week.”
“Oh! did you? Long ago Nannie wrote us that there had been a Radnor man at her birthday party but she quite forgot to mention his name. Oh! I wish Julie had known this the other night! She would have loved a chance to ask you all about the Driscoes. Isn’t Nannie the dearest little thing?”
“If I hadn’t been a duffer, Miss Dale, I might have placed your sister immediately when I mether, for I have had the minutest descriptions of you both, I assure you. There was something very baffling about her that night, as if I must have known her or at least seen her before somewhere, but—”
“But you did not expect to see us in society, perhaps?”
He glanced at her as if the better to understand if her tone were cynical, but her bland little smile told him nothing and before he could make any reply she said:
“I am afraid we have strayed too far from important things, Mr. Renshawe. It is shocking of me to encroach upon your time. Is there anything we can do for you in a business way?” She told Julie afterward she was quite proud of this little speech, for she had been consumed with a desire to ask him a thousand questions about the Driscoes.
Renshawe interpreted it to mean that the chat was at an end and he feared that in some clumsy way he had offended her, but she steered him into a discussion of the order he had come to leave with such a calm matter-of-fact air that he found himself consulting her about salads and cakes with an ease he would not have believed possible when he entered the room. He had never been brought into business relations with a young girl of her position and he admired exceedingly hermanner. The order having been arranged quite to his satisfaction he dismissed the subject and made up his mind to have his say in spite of the cue Hester had given him. So as he rose to leave he said:
“I hope you will forgive me, Miss Dale, if I tell you I feel quite as if I knew you and your sister and I am immensely glad to meet you. You see the Blakes took me frequently to Wavertree Hall and Miss Nannie spoke of you so often; she—”
“Dear little Nan,” the girl said musingly, “how I should love to see her!”
The man looked as if he would like to echo that sentiment, but he only said as he moved toward the door:
“Will you be very kind, Miss Dale, and let Mrs. Lennox bring me some time to see you and your sister? I have so many messages from Virginia, for Miss Nannie was confident I should meet you and you see she was right.”
“Indeed you may come,” said Hester frankly, “we—we do not receive many visitors, but I know Julie will be glad to see you—I shall too,” genuinely, and not as if politeness prompted this after-thought.
“Thank you. For the next few weeks I am owned body and soul,” smiling, “by Jules Grémond who is stopping with me. Perhaps youknow of him, Miss Dale? He’s made considerable of a stir since he came out of Africa. An old chum of mine whom I think you might enjoy meeting—perhaps after awhile you will allow me to arrange it.”
Hester always says she acted like a fool at this juncture and stammered out some unintelligible reply, and that he immediately departed, she thinks without any special consciousness of her idiocy—or at least she hopes so, for she frankly confesses she was in no state of mind to know. However that may be, the door had no sooner closed after him than the dignified junior Dale, caterer, became metamorphosed into an excited young girl who flew down the hall to the room where her sister had taken refuge.
“Come back to the sitting-room where we can talk without waking Daddy, quick!” she cried, pulling Julie down the hall. “Now what do you suppose?” when they had reached the little room.
“Some one has left an extra fine order,” seeing several pieces of paper clutched nervously in Hester’s hand.
“Don’t be so everlastingly material!” pinning the papers with a vicious stab to the back of the chair. “It has nothing to do with work, whatever—that is not exactly. Oh! do guess who has been here—and whoishere?”
“Hester, are you hiding some one to surprise me?” looking eagerly about. “I know it is a man—I heard him. It can’t be Dr. Ware; it wasn’t his step. It’s—it’s—oh! Hester Dale, is it cousin Driscoe?”
“You’re getting hot,” cried Hester encouragingly, reveling in her sister’s excited curiosity.
“Tell me this minute,” demanded Julie, shaking her. “What other man would be coming here?”
“Well, thereareothers,” laughed Hester, teasingly. “Mr. Renshawe, for instance.”
“No!”
“Honor bright! And who do you suppose he is?” mysteriously.
“Don’t be so tantalizing! What on earth do I know about him?” wrathfully.
“Well, you ought to. He hung around you the whole evening at Mrs. Lennox’s, you know he did. I simply wasn’t in it. I don’t believe he even knew I was there!”
“You idiot! I had no personal talk with him whatever. As for you, you flirted shockingly with Mr. Landor. I was astonished at you!” severely.
“Iwasnice to him, wasn’t I?” admitted Hester, “but that was all for Jessie Davis’ benefit.”
“So I thought, you depraved wretch! Willyou kindly tell me what all this has to do with your present excitement?”
Hester sat on the edge of her chair and delivered her next speech in italics.
“Mr. Renshawe is the man who went to Nannie’s party and got the ring in her birthday cake!”
“Not really!”
“And he came here not knowing who we really were, because the manager at Heath’s gave him one of our cards and recommended us as caterers. You ought to have seen him, Julie! He was embarrassed almost to death and I felt flustered myself, to say the least, but we managed to get through the business part nicely and then at the end he just floored me!”
“Hester!” Words other than ejaculations seemed to have failed Julie.
The younger girl came over and stood in front of her to get the full effect of her next speech, the most important piece of news, which she had had hard work to keep until the last.
“Jules Grémond is in this country, staying with Mr. Renshawe now,” she said.
Julie was rendered wholly inarticulate, but the color spread in a crimson wave over her face and she made a grab at her sister, pulling her down beside her.
“You are guying me!” she cried when she could speak.
“It is the solemn truth; ‘cross my heart, hope to die,’” maintained Hester dramatically. “Moreover the things Mr. Renshawe has ordered are for a tea he is giving for Monsieur Grémond to-morrow and the Fates decree that we shall tickle the palate of the distinguished African explorer with sandwiches and things! Oh! Julie, what a funny world!”
“How do you know he is distinguished?” asked Julie, clasping her hands behind her head that her nervous fingers might not betray her.
“Because I do. Mr. Renshawe as much as said so. I wouldn’t have believed he had it in him, would you?”
“I don’t know; we really hardly knew him well enough to judge.”
“Umph! I don’t know about that. What do you suppose he is doing here, Julie? Do you think he’ll look us up?” hesitatingly.
“Of course not,” with more asperity than the innocent questions seemed to justify. “He will never dream of our being in Radnor. You know we had been some weeks at the hotel in Los Angeles when he came, and for all he knew we might have been going to spend the rest of our days there. Probably he has ceased to remember that we exist—a man would find hisaffaires du cœurrather clumsy baggage in the wilds of Africa!”
“If he carried them all, yes. One or two might be consoling,” suggested Hester airily.
“Oh! bother Jules Grémond! I don’t want to think of him! He belongs to a life that is past!”
“Well, it is queer, anyway,” insisted Hester, “and I want to scream with laughter when I think of a divinity like you—didn’t he call you a divinity, Julie?—coming down from your pedestal to cater for his serene highness, the one and only Jules Grémond!”
There was something so inimitable about Hester’s manner coupled with the graphic picture she drew that Julie went off into a paroxysm of laughter that ended in hysterical sobbing which Hester put an end to by shaking her vigorously.
“You are so funny,” said Julie faintly, wiping her eyes. “You are almost as funny as the situation!” and then she buried her face in Hester’s arm and laughed again.
“Shut up!” said Hester with more force than elegance for she was getting frightened at Julie’s unusual behavior. “Stop this minute or you’ll go all to pieces and besides, I’ve an awful confession to make!”
“Oh! not anything more,” protested Julie,leaning back exhausted. “My dear, don’t! Another shock will certainly be the death of me!” piteously.
“Well I’ll die if I don’t get it off my conscience, so there you are!” cried Hester, thumping down in Julie’s lap and beginning to finger the hair that strayed in little curls about her temples.
“Go on,” resignedly from Julie.
“Playing with your hair? I know you love to have me do it so you need not put on such a martyred air.”
“Go on with your confession, you goose!”
“Well, I told Mr. Renshawe he might come to call on us. You see he asked if we would let Mrs. Lennox bring him and he was so nice I couldn’t refuse.”
An amused smile crept into Julie’s eyes. “I thought we had nothing in common with men whatever—that they did not fit into the present scheme of things—that we had no use for them in the life we live!Wasn’tit some such explosive theory you expounded to me ages ago?” she asked teasingly.
“It is true, you know it is,” pulling Julie’s curls to emphasize her words, “but I did it for Nannie’s sake. I know he is just dying to come here and talk about her.”
“You mean you are just dying to have him!So am I, for the matter of that. Won’t it be nice to hear all about them?”
“Do you know something?” said Hester who had a trick of beginning a speech with a question, “I believe he is in love with her!”
“What gave you that idea, you precocious infant?”
“Oh! nothing special, only the way he looked when her name was mentioned and his wanting to come here to talk about her—there is no other possible reason why he should want to come—and he got the ring in her cake you know. Wouldn’t it be romantic if she married him?”
“Hester Dale! The way you allow your imagination to run riot is something perfectly fearful! You put one and one together and make a thousand things! I never saw such a girl!”
“You are not cross, are you, Julie? You don’t think I did wrong to say he might come?”
“Of course not, you baby, I think you did perfectly right. Now go and make me a cup of tea if the kettle has not boiled dry. We need a brace after all this excitement.”
Hester busied herself with the tea things and Julie sat staring at her, wrapt in thought. If Hester was conscious of this preoccupation she gave no sign, but hummed a gay tune and talked to Peter Snooks, who came and sat pressed close to her knees in true dog fashion.
“Do you know, Peter Snooks,” she said speculatively, “we have one very important feature in common—our noses.” At this he thrust his up in her lap. “Yes,” she continued, patting him, “we have. Yours denotes your state of health—mine the arrival of a stranger within our gates. A certain proud and haughty person jeers at mine but you know how it is, don’t you, old man?”
The dog pawed her lap by way of showing that he understood perfectly and with his big eloquent eyes fixed on the sugar bowl, thrust out his tongue suggestively.
“What! is that sensitive too! Oh! you scalawag!” and she tossed him a lump of sugar.
This conversation had stolen in through Julie’s reverie and she pulled up her chair and leaned over to her sister as she took her cup of tea.
“I dare say I did jeer at that saucy nose of yours,” she began, “but in token of my future awe and respect I am going to kiss it now,” suiting the action to the words. “It may be a precaution against its owner’s kissing me as an alternative in the next emergency! Peter Snooks, I call upon you to witness that I hereto set my seal,” with another kiss, “having at this moment solemnly declared that I consider the aforesaid feature infallible.”
Radnor society was all agog over the second appearance of Monsieur Grémond, and no sooner was his coming made known than Renshawe was fairly deluged with invitations for his guest.
Miss Ware took that occasion to give a big reception to which magnanimously, “those Dale girls” were invited. This was the only outcome of the after breakfast talk many weeks before with her brother. To tell the truth, the interest in them kindled at the moment by his enthusiasm, waned, and she never arranged the little party for which he had told her she had such a talent. Not that she altogether meant to waive her promise; she compromised with her conscience by telling herself that she had not yet gotten around to it. Here then was her opportunity and the girls were invited to the reception not only by card but personally. She only succeeded, however, in extracting a half promise from them to come, for they were having an anxious time over a new departure in their work and were little inclined for social dissipation.
Kenneth Landor gave a stag dinner at his clubin honor of the Frenchman on the night of his arrival and Dr. Ware entertained Renshawe, Grémond and Landor at the same place later in the week, dining them informally before his sister’s reception. Dr. Ware greatly enjoyed the society of younger men, who sought him in many capacities and as a counselor found in his quick comprehension of their difficulties many a solution of problems which to the young so often seem insurmountable. Then it was that the wisdom grown out of his vast experience of life gave itself freely to those who came to him, and many a man and woman left his presence cheered by the grip of his hand, strengthened by the kindliness that looked out from his eyes and pervaded his whole personality. On his lighter side, as a delightfully congenial companion, he had no equal in Radnor and this rubbing up continually against a younger point of view tended to freshen his mind and keep him in touch with much that otherwise, through the exigencies of his profession, would have escaped him.
“I do not want to seem inhospitable,” he was saying that evening as the four men sat together at dinner, “but we must not linger too long over our cigars, or my sister will hold me responsible for keeping you away from her.” He had his own reasons for wanting to arrive fairly early.
“In that case we’d better move along, Landor,” saidRenshawe rising. “Dr. Ware,” turning to his host, “will you take Grémond with you or wait a few moments while we look in at a committee meeting upstairs. We will not be long if you both care to wait.”
“I am in the hands of my friends,” said Grémond.
“We will wait, by all means,” replied the Doctor, consulting his watch. “It is not much after nine now.”
Thought transference was a psychological phenomenon over which Dr. Ware had pondered much, and a startling instance of it was borne in upon him when after the other men had departed, Monsieur Grémond turned to him and said abruptly, without any preamble:
“May I ask, Dr. Ware, if you know in this city a family of Dales? In particular a Mademoiselle Julie Dale?”
“Why yes, I believe so,” said the Doctor who was nothing if not non-committal, “do you?”
He was totally unprepared for the effusive manner in which the Frenchman literally fell upon his neck, exclaiming, “Oh! my friend, I thank you, I thank you!”
Masculine demonstration is not particularly pleasing to a man of Anglo-Saxon blood and Dr. Ware, in order to prevent a further exhibition ofit, drew away slightly and offered his guest a fresh cigar.
Monsieur Grémond shook his head. “I will not smoke—I will do nothing but ask you questions—if I may. Oh! you cannot think what it means to know I have found her!”
“Have you been searching for Miss Julie Dale?” asked the Doctor, puffing clouds of smoke into the air.
“Searching? Ah, if you but knew! I have been across your continent to California only to learn that she had long ago left there and come to your eastern coast, presumably here, though no one at the hotel knew definitely about her.”
“You are especially interested in Miss Dale, I take it,” said the Doctor quietly. “In that case perhaps I should tell you that I stand somewhat in the relation of a guardian to her and her sister. You may talk quite frankly with me if you care to do so.”
It was impossible to restrain or even resent the hand-shake with which the younger man expressed his appreciation.
“The Fates have been kind!” was his exclamation. “I am rewarded for my bitter disappointment. Is Monsieur Dale dead?” he asked suddenly.
“Not dead, but so ill that he is no longer ableto look out for their interests—the privilege, therefore, devolves upon me.”
“I wish to marry Mademoiselle Julie,” said the Frenchman with a directness Dr. Ware liked. “I came to this country chiefly for the purpose of taking her back with me. I knew them at Los Angeles two years ago and Monsieur Dale liked me—at least I do not think he disliked me, for he allowed me to be much in his daughters’ society. I realize that to you I am quite unknown, but Renshawe will vouch for me and any questions you may care to ask about my family or my future I shall be most happy to answer.”
“Thank you.” There was silence for a moment and then the Doctor said slowly, “Have you reason to suppose that Miss Dale will marry you?”
“Ah! that I do not know,—but she will—she must! Our intercourse was so perfect that life without her is incomplete. And she seemed always very happy with me. Has she never spoken of me or those days?”
“I think not,” replied the Doctor, remembering that according to his sister that was in a man’s favor. “But it is not at all unnatural,” he hastened to say kindly, “we have gone little into the past since they have been living here—for many reasons.”
“Will you tell me where they live and have I your permission to call on them to-morrow?” asked the Frenchman eagerly.
“Better than that, Monsieur, Miss Dale and her sister will be at my sister’s reception this evening. It will give me great pleasure to see that you meet her at once. Many changes have taken place since you last saw her, but of all that she will prefer herself to tell you. You will find her developed from a winsome, lovable girl into a noble young woman whose attractions in every way are greater—”
“Not greater than when I knew her—that cannot be possible,” interrupted the Frenchman. “To think that within the hour I shall see her! How can I express to you my intense gratitude for all this?”
“By making her future all she has a right to expect from the man to whom she entrusts it,” said the Doctor earnestly. “For the rest, we will talk things over more thoroughly in a day or two. I think,” he said rising, “that Renshawe and Landor have forgotten us. Suppose after all we go on and let them follow at their leisure.”
And Monsieur Grémond readily assenting, Dr. Ware called a cab, which soon left them at his door.
The house was already crowded and Miss Ware gave her brother a look of displeasure which sheconsidered his tardy appearance merited. It was not more than a fleeting frown, however, for Monsieur Grémond followed close at his heels and what hostess could fail to wreathe her countenance in other than most charming smiles to greet so distinguished a guest! Dr. Ware presented a number of persons to him and saw him well launched before he left him to go in search of the Dale girls. He rubbed up against Kenneth Landor presently and secured his aid as a scout to reconnoiter, for in his semi-capacity of host he found it difficult to ignore the people about him in pursuit of two elusive young women.
Kenneth appeared at the Doctor’s elbow in the course of half an hour and confided to him that they were nowhere visible—“upstairs or downstairs or in my lady’s chamber.” He wore such a dejected look that the Doctor laughed and asked him why he wasn’t up to his old tricks—weren’t there dozens of pretty girls in the room? Kenneth merely raised his eyebrows expressively and the Doctor laughed again and reminded him that suspense was stimulating. Then he bethought him of Monsieur Grémond and discovering that individual, answered the questioning look in his eyes with an encouraging nod and managed to go over and say, in spite of the people by whom the Frenchman was surrounded,“She has not come yet but you shall know the instant she does.”
When an hour passed and they did not appear he accosted his sister who was still standing at her post receiving.
“Where are the girls?” with difficulty getting her attention.
“Girls? what girls? It seems to me there is no lack of them.”
“I mean the Dale girls. Didn’t you send the carriage for them as I directed?”
“Of course I did. They—howdoyou do, Mrs. Smartset—and Mr. Smartset, charmed I’m sure.”
The Doctor stood back and patiently waited while an influx of guests passed before her. When an opportunity offered he spoke again.
“They are not here, Mary. If you can give me a moment I would like to know why.”
“You wouldn’t have me neglect my guests to discuss those Dale girls would you?Mustyou be going, Mrs. Marston, and your daughter too—so good of you to come—goodnight. They are not coming,” she said in an aside to her brother, “the carriage came back with a note. I had no time to read it and I do not remember where I put it. Now for pity’s sake go and look after people and don’t worry me any more aboutthem! Ah, Mrs. Lennox, this is really charming to see you,” as that individual entered.
It was no easy matter to escape to his office but Dr. Ware did it and sent for Kenneth.
“I have just learned that my little girls are not coming,” he said when Kenneth had joined him there. “I fear, my boy, that something is wrong and I am off. If people miss me say I was called away to a patient. Every one knows I am not to be counted on socially. Then there is Grémond. He knew the girls long ago and has been looking forward to meeting them to-night. Tell him they were prevented at the last moment from coming and give him their address so he can call if he likes.” It was characteristic of Dr. Ware that he left nothing undone.
“You are not apprehensive of anything very serious, are you?” asked Kenneth who himself felt more concern than he cared to show.
“No, no; why should I be? They may merely be tired out and have gone to bed or they may need me—I can’t take any chances where they are concerned, my boy.”
“Of course not,” said Kenneth with unusual emphasis. “If you are going to walk over, Doctor, I’d like to go along with you.”
“Take you away from the festivities? Nonsense! The girls in there would never forgive me!”
“Oh! hang the whole business! I beg your pardon, Doctor, I forgot it was your sister’s function.”
The Doctor laughed. “Come along with me. You need ozone to restore your placidity, but go back again later, like an obliging chap, if only to give my message to poor Grémond.”
They had been swinging along for several blocks in the cool night air when Landor broke the silence by exclaiming savagely, “What in thunder has Jules Grémond to do with them!”
“With the Dales?” asked the Doctor innocently, inwardly amused at Landor’s resentful tone. “He met them in California, I believe.”
“Umph!” grunted Kenneth.
“Here we are,” said the Doctor presently as they reached the house, “and there are lights in their rooms, so they are up about something and it is well I came. Goodnight, and thank you for walking over with me, Kenneth.”
“Dr. Ware,” said the younger man wistfully, detaining him a moment on the steps, “if there is anything wrong up there,” with a motion of his head toward the top story, “you’ll let me know, won’t you? And if I could be of the slightest service you’ll call on me without hesitation, won’t you? Of course I know they’ve no possible use for a chap like me but I’d moveheaven and earth to do anything—to feel that I was really of service to them in any way.”
“You could not be better employed, Kenneth,” said the Doctor, looking down on him affectionately. “I shall remember what you say and I like you the better for saying it. Good-night.”
Dr. Ware hastened into the house and up the long flights of stairs leading to the Dales’ apartment and knocked at the door, hesitating at so late an hour to startle them by ringing the bell. Evidently they were expecting him, for steps came down the little hall and the door was opened almost immediately by Bridget.
“The saints be praised!” she exclaimed, “but it’s the Doctor!”
“You were expecting me, of course, Bridget,” as she helped him off with his coat.
“Bless your heart but I can’t say as we wus, sir, glad though they’ll be to see your blessed face.”
“Of course I would come. Don’t they know that by this time? Who is ill? Is the Major worse? I should have been here long ago had I not been expecting them at the house every moment.”
“They ain’t ill, sir, they’re workin’”, was her reply. “Maybe you’d better come right out to the kitchen an’ see for yourself their carryin’son. We’re all at it to-night an’ it’s the fearful time they’ve had but it’s all plain sailin’ to the end now,” she wound up hopefully.
Somewhat mystified, Dr. Ware followed and stood speechless on the threshold of the kitchen. For there were the girls in their cotton gowns with sleeves rolled up to the shoulders working away at what were to him inexplicable things, while over in a corner sat Jack half buried in a pile of small white boxes. The whole room presented the bustle of eleven in the morning rather than eleven in the evening.
“You bad Dr. Ware,” said Julie playfully when she saw him, “what made you come?” She stopped her work a moment and whisking her apron over the chair Bridget had drawn out for him, motioned him to sit down. “We’re just daubed with frosting from one end of the place to the other, but we can’t stop working a moment, so if you dare, risk a chair?”
The Doctor sat down. He would have taken the chair with the same equanimity if it had been caked with frosting.
“Now what does this mean, at this hour?” he said.
“Didn’t Miss Ware get our note? Oh! I am so sorry. We are terribly sorry to miss the reception, aren’t we, Hester?”
“Um-um,” said Hester absorbed in making elaborate frosting designs on small pieces of cake.