We Can't Have Everything Part 78

"You'd better bring her here."

"Oh no; she'd be in your way. She'd put you out."

"I hope not, not so soon," Mrs. Dyckman laughed, dismally. "She'll probably not like us at all, but we can start her off right."

"That's mighty white of you, mother."

"Did you expect me to be--yellow?"

"No, but I thought you might be a little--blue."

"If she'll make you happy I'll thank Heaven for her every day and night of my life. So let's give her every chance we can, and I hope she'll give us a chance."

Jim's arms were long enough to encircle her and hug her tight. He whispered to her, "I never needed you more, you G.o.d-blessed--mother!"

Her tears streamed down her cheeks upon his lips, and he had a little taste of the bitterness of maternal love. She felt better after she had cried a little, and she said, with courage:

"Now we mustn't keep you away from her. If you want me to, I'll go along with you and call on her and extend a formal invitation."

Jim could not permit his revered mother to make so complete a submission as that. He shook his head:

"That won't be necessary. I'll go get Kedzie."

"Kedzie? I thought her name was Anita."

"That was her stage name--her film name."

"Oh! And her name wasn't Adair, either, perhaps?"

"No, it was--er--Thropp!"

"Oh!" She wanted to say "What a pretty name!" to make it easier for him, but she could not arrange the words on her tongue. She asked, instead, "Is she American?"

"American? I should say so! Born in Missouri."

Another "Oh!" from the mother.

Jim swallowed a bit more of quinine and made his escape, saying:

"You're as fine as they make 'em, mother. I won't be gone long."

The father was so disgusted with the whole affair that he could only save himself from breaking the furniture by a sardonic taunt:

"Tell our daughter-in-law that if she wants to bring along her camera she can have the ballroom for a studio. We never use it, anyway."

"Shame on you!" his wife cried. "Don't mind him, Jimsy."

"Jimsy" reminded Jim of Mrs. Thropp and his promise to ask his mother to call on her. But he had confessed all that he could endure. He was glad to get away without letting slip the fact that "Thropp" had changed to "Dyckman" _via_ "Gilfoyle."

His mother called him back for another embrace and then let him go. She had nowhere to turn for support but to her raging husband, and she found herself crying her eyes out in his arms. He had his own heartbreak and pridebreak, but he was only a man and no sympathy need be wasted on him.

He wasted none on himself. He laughed ruefully.

"You were saying, mother, only awhile ago that you wished he'd marry some nice girl. Well, he's married, and we'll have to take what he brings us. But, oh, these children, these d.a.m.ned children!"

A little later he was trying to brace himself and his wife against the future.

"After all, marriage is only an infernal gamble. We might have scoured the world and picked out an angel for him, and she might have run off with the chauffeur the second week. I guess I got the only real angel that's been captured in the last fifty years. The boy may have stumbled on a prize unbeknownst. We'll give the kid the benefit of the doubt, anyway. Won't we?"

"Of course, dear, if she'll give us the same."

"Well, Jim said she came from Missouri. We've got to show her."

"Ring for Wotton, will you?"

"What are you going to tell him?"

"The truth."

"Good Lord! Do you dare do that?"

"I don't dare not to. They'll find it out down-stairs quickly enough in their own way."

"I see. You want to beat 'em to it."

"Exactly."

For years the American world had been discussing the duty of parents to teach their children the things they must inevitably learn in uglier and more perilous ways. There were editorials on it, stories, poems, novels, numberless volumes. It even reached the stage. Mrs. Dyckman had left her own children to find things out for themselves. It occurred to her that she should not make the same mistake with the eager servants who gave the walls ears and the keyholes eyes.

It was a ferocious test of her courage, but she knew that she would have all possible help from Wotton. He had not only been the head steward of the family s.h.i.+p in countless storms, but he had an inherited knowledge of the sufferings of homes. He had learned his profession as page to his father, who had been a butler and the son of a butler.

Wotton came in like a sweet old earl and waited while Mrs. Dyckman gathered strength to say as offhandedly as if she were merely announcing that Jim was arrested for murder:

"Oh, Wotton, I wanted to tell you that Mr. James Dyckman has just brought us the news of his marriage."

Wotton's eyebrows went up and his hands sought each other and whispered together as he faltered:

"Indeed, ma'am! That is a surprise, isn't it?"

"He has married a very brilliant young lady who has had great success in--ah--in the--ah--moving pictures."

The old man gulped a moment, but finally got it down. "The moving pictures! Indeed, ma'am! My wife and I are very fond of the--the movies, as the saying is."

"Everybody is, isn't they--aren't they? Perhaps you have seen Miss Anita Adair in the--er--pictures."

"Miss Anita Adair? Oh, I should say we 'ave! And is she the young lady?"

"Yes. They are coming to live with us for a time."

"Oh, that will be very pleasant! Quite an honor, you might say--That will make two extra at dinner, then?"