The Cricket Part 57

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Miss Watts found Isabelle more reasonable, more amenable than ever before in their a.s.sociation, and as she had made some pleasant acquaintances, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. She hoped their stay would be long. In her reports to the Bryces she conscientiously mentioned Isabelle's good behaviour and her improvement in health.

She watched the career of her charge with interest and some concern. She saw with surprise that the girl had hit upon the only possible way of intriguing the interest of a spoiled darling like Captain O'Leary. She flitted like a will-o'-the-wisp before him.

Larry thought that their talk on the beach had established a new relation, but he soon found that he could not rely on it. When she was particularly annoying he reminded her how sweet she had been that day, but all she could recall of it was that he had cut Percy out! If he ignored her completely, suddenly she was like a soft little rabbit in his hands, all heart-beat. She puzzled and annoyed him.

These were busy days for Isabelle. Percy and Jack were always under foot. They furnished comic relief when her military intrigue threatened to become serious. Then her "G.o.d-son," Jean Jacques Petard, who was wounded and in a hospital, replied to her maternal solicitude with prolonged and pa.s.sionate devotion. Isabelle shared the treasure with Agnes, who protested that none of her G.o.dsons wrote to her like that; and she asked to have Jean back. Isabelle stoutly refused. A gift was a gift. Agnes had given her Jean and she intended to keep him.

"But you took my two best ones."

"You gave me my choice, didn't you?"

"Yes, and I was a silly to do it. I might have known you'd take the best ones"--hotly.

"But you had letters from him. You say yourself he never wrote to you like that. It's _me_ he's writing to, not you."

"Well, of all the conceited things!" cried Agnes.

"I'm glad I am. I'll give you Edouard back, if you're going to make such a row."

"I don't want him."

"All right, that settles it. It wouldn't be fair to Jean to give him back to you."

"Fair! Lots you care about fair."

"Do you think it's fair to pa.s.s a soldier of France--one of our allies--back and forth between mothers, like a bean-bag?"

"I have nothing more to say. I have found you out, Isabelle Bryce. I give to you generously, and you prove a false friend."

Agnes walked away with her face flushed and her head high. It was too bad to be treated like this when you were doing your patriotic duty. She brooded on the matter for several days, avoiding her false friend, and then an idea of revenge took possession of her.

Chance played into her hands at the moment, by putting into her lap a copy of a fas.h.i.+onable magazine. It had two pages of pictures of the idlers at Bermuda. An enlarged snapshot of Isabelle coming out of the sea, was featured with a brief biographic sketch of her meteoric career as actress, of her family, and her wealth. Agnes cut this out, enclosing it with an anonymous letter to Petard. She told of the miserable trick played upon him. Isabelle was only seventeen and a half, and in no way fit to be a G.o.d-mother to him. She was infatuated with him, and pretended to be old, so she would have an excuse to write him.

This malicious mischief mailed and headed for France, Agnes felt better, and awaited results. She would make up with Isabelle in time to hear what Jean Jacques Petard would say now. She hoped he would denounce her as a traitor!

So far as Isabelle was concerned, Agnes and her injured feelings were of no moment. It was a trifle awkward when Percy and Jack arranged a foursome, but by strict formality of intercourse, they managed the situation. The boys were soon aware of it, and found much amus.e.m.e.nt in urging the combatants to battle. Percy tried to pump Agnes as to the cause of the rupture, but nothing could unseal her lips on the secret.

She could imagine what those boys would do if they knew the truth. So poor Agnes suffered in silence, nursed her secret triumph, and staged the moment of Isabelle's downfall.

Major O'Dell, whom by this time Isabelle counted a friend, approached one day as she dallied with her two admirers.

"I impersonate Mercury, bearing an invitation," he said.

"I'll do anything with you, Major O'Dell, but I don't want to play with your crowd."

"Why not?"

"I don't like the women. They pick on me."

"Larry and I will protect you."

"Humph!"

"I have the permission of the amiable Miss Watts. It is all arranged."

"What is it?"

"Monty Haven's yacht is at anchor and he wants you to come for a sail and lunch aboard."

"Sorry. I'm engaged to-day with Percy."

"May I add that a certain gentleman, not at the moment in your good graces, entreats you to come?"

"Sorry. You wouldn't let me off, would you, Percy?"

"No"--firmly.

"Alas! This is final?" asked the Major.

"Convey my thanks to Mr. Haven, please, dear Major O'Dell, and mention----"

"'Percy'," he interrupted with a smile, and left.

"What did you put it on me for?" complained Percy.

"Come down on the beach and watch them go," ordered Isabelle, leading the way.

They sat them down and watched preparations on the yacht. A motor boat came ash.o.r.e and carried off the guests.

"Now aren't you sorry?" said Percy.

"Nope."

The motor boat presently put off again--in their direction. It came as near sh.o.r.e as it dared, and stopped. Captain O'Leary stepped overboard into the shallow water, and advanced upon the puzzled three. He bowed, leaned over, picked up Miss Isabelle Bryce in his arms, and marched into the sea and toward the boat.

"Hi there! what are you doing?" cried Percy.

"Come and get me, you big idiots!" called Isabelle over O'Leary's shoulder.

The two boys plunged in. O'Leary laughed and ran. He set her in the boat, jumped in himself, and they were off, leaving the two swains hip deep and helpless.

Isabelle turned smouldering eyes on the Captain.

"Cricket, my dear," said he, "I feel that there is an excess of Percy!"