Linda Lee, Incorporated Part 21

"To find you----"

"He'd only be wasting his time."

"He spoke of employing detectives to trace you, when I a.s.sured him I knew nothing of your whereabouts and that when--and if--I did hear from you, I would necessarily be guided by your wishes."

"Thank you," said Lucinda. "It wouldn't do Bel any good to see me; it would only irritate him to find I could hold out against a plea he made in person."

"I understand," Willis agreed; and then with a quizzical look: "You seem to know your own mind, young woman; so I shan't attempt to advise you.

But would you mind telling me what you have decided to do?"

"I shall divorce Bel, of course."

"You don't think it might be advisable to wait a while? It makes me very sad to think of you in relation to divorce proceedings. But then, of course, I belong to a generation that viewed divorce in a different light." Lucinda was silent. "Ah, well!" Willis sighed, and renounced hope then and there--"if you must, you must, I presume; and I will do my best to serve your wishes, my dear. Only tell me how...."

"Why, naturally, I want to get it over with as quickly and quietly as possible, with the minimum amount of public scandal."

"Then you won't sue in New York State."

"Why not?"

"Its laws recognize only one ground for absolute divorce."

"No," Lucinda concluded thoughtfully; "I'd rather not drag others into the case, I'd rather get my freedom, if I can, without making anybody unhappy, more than us two."

"The laws of the State of Nevada are most liberal. But it would be necessary for you to establish a legal residence by living in Reno for, I believe, six months."

"I suppose that's unavoidable."

"I will look up the most reputable firm of lawyers there, and recommend you to them. If you find yourself in need of other advice, write or telegraph me and I will come out to confer with you."

"I hope I won't have to impose on your kindness to that extent."

Willis blinked, removed the gold-rimmed pince-nez of his fading day, and polished the lenses with a silk handkerchief.

"I should not consider it an imposition, but a privilege, Lucinda. I can think of nothing I wouldn't do for your father's daughter, or for yours, if you had one."

"Thank G.o.d I haven't!"

"I'm afraid I can't say Amen to that. But then, as I have already remarked, I am in many respects a survival, an interesting one, I trust, but a survival none the less, of a conservative-minded generation."

He replaced the gla.s.ses.

"Is there anything else, my dear? If so, we can take it up over our luncheon. That is to say, I am hoping you will find it convenient and agreeable to lunch with me today."

Bowing punctilious acknowledgment of Lucinda's acceptance, he sat back and joined the fingers of both hands at his chin. "And now," he pursued--"if you don't mind satisfying an inquisitive old man--I would very much like to know what you propose to do with your freedom, when you get it."

Lucinda jumped up and turned away with a quaver of desolation.

"Ah, I wish you hadn't asked me! That's what I'm trying all the time to forget----"

"I thought so."

"The emptiness to come!... What _can_ a woman do to round out her life when she's lost her husband and is fit for nothing but to be a wife?"

"She can find another husband. Many do."

"Marry again!" A violent movement of Lucinda's hands abolished the thought. "Never that! I'm through with love for good and all."

"No doubt," agreed the student of law and life. "But are you sure that love is through with you?"

XVI

Willis left for New York on a late afternoon train; and when Lucinda had said good-bye to him at the station, she felt as if she had parted with her one real friend in all the world.

Nevertheless it had done her good to see and talk with him, and it was in a courageous if not altogether a cheerful temper that she bade the driver of her taxi stop at the Consolidated Ticket Office on the way back to the Blackstone.

But a set-back threatened immediately when she applied for transportation and a drawing-room through to Reno. The Winter stampede of California tourists was in full westward swing, she learned, and not only was every drawing-room and compartment sold for the next fortnight on the trains of the Union Pacific system, the direct route to Reno, but she would have to wait several days even if she were willing to content herself with an upper berth.

The appalled expression with which she contemplated this alternative, and tried to make up her mind which would be worse, to nurse her loneliness in Chicago for another two weeks, or condemn herself for three days to the promiscuous indecency of open sleeping-car conditions, enlisted the sympathies of the susceptible if none too brilliant clerk who had dashed her hopes; and promising to see what he could do, he busied himself mysteriously with a battery of telephones, and presently returned in a glow of vicarious delight, to announce that he had arranged to book Lucinda through to San Francisco via the Santa Fe system, with a section all to herself on the California Limited leaving the next night.

To Lucinda's objection that she didn't want to go to San Francisco, she wanted to go to Reno, he explained, and produced bewildering maps and time-tables to prove his contention, that she would not only travel in more comfort but would actually save time by going out immediately via the Santa Fe and returning eastward from San Francisco to Reno, a comparatively insignificant trip of some eleven hours.

To clinch the matter he offered to telegraph for a drawing-room reservation to Reno on the first train to leave San Francisco after her arrival. And Lucinda feebly humoured his anxiety to be of service to a pretty lady.

Perhaps it was just as well, after all, that she wouldn't be able to shut herself up on the train and mope alone, perhaps it would take her out of herself a bit to be thrown into indiscriminate a.s.sociation with fellow-travellers.

Among the first purchases she had made after calling at the Bank of Michigan were a wardrobe trunk and a fitted dressing-case. And when the trunk had been checked and trundled away by a porter, the next morning, Lucinda had a long afternoon to fill in, and accomplished this by attending a matinee.

Returning to the hotel about five, she was approaching the elevators when, midway in the foyer, she stopped stock still, even her heart and lungs momentarily refusing their office, transfixed by the sight of Bellamy standing at the registry desk, in earnest consultation with one of the clerks.

Apparently Bellamy had just learned what he wanted to know; Lucinda recognized the backward jerk of the head that was an unfailing sign of gratification in him, and saw him turn away from the desk. Galvanized, she hurled herself toward one of the elevator shafts, the gate to which was even then being closed. Luck and agility enabled her to slip through before the gate clanged and the car shot upward--the pa.s.sengers eyeing Lucinda in amus.e.m.e.nt or amazement or both, the operator treating her to a dark overshoulder scowl.

But she didn't care, her recklessness had purchased her a respite, provisional and short-lived though it might prove; and when the elevator had discharged its other pa.s.sengers on floors below hers, she found a richly compensating tip for the attendant.

"Sorry if I frightened you," she apologized. "There was somebody in the lobby I didn't want to see me, and I had to act quickly."

"'Sall right, ma'am," the boy grumbled, pocketing the money. "Only yeh don' wanta count on gettin' away with that sort of thing often, yeh might of got yehself killed."

"I'll be more careful," Lucinda promised humbly, as the car stopped to let her off. "And will you do something for me, please: tell the management I'd like my bill sent up to my room at once, and that, if anybody asks for me, I'm not in."

"Sure I will, ma'm."

When she entered her room the telephone was calling. She locked the door; and for as long as it continued to ring, which it did for upwards of five minutes with brief rests in discouragement, Lucinda did not move or cease to regard it in frightened fascination, as if it were a thing of malign intelligence which all her wit and ingenuity would hardly serve to frustrate. At length it gave it up as a bad job, and she sank limply into a chair near the door, and there remained stirless, trying to master demoralized nerves, trying to think, till a knock brought her to her feet in a flutter.

She had trouble finding voice enough to be heard through the door: "Who is it?"