Jewel Weed Part 33

"Well, I think you are very sensible to do the was.h.i.+ng. One must have some occupation to fill the days, mustn't one? And there aren't many things, when one is tied to the house. If to-morrow is warm, I wonder if you would feel up to a little drive in the afternoon?"

"I shouldn't be surprised if I would."

"And do you care for reading? I've brought you a rather clever little story. I see you have all the magazines."

"Yes, Lena sends 'em. She thinks they'll occupy me and save her the trouble of comin' herself. But, good land, I don't care for 'em beyond lookin' at the pictures and the advertis.e.m.e.nts--except the _Ladies' Home Companion_. That has good recipes in it; only Sarah can't make nothin'

that's fit to eat. But I did read that thing in the _Chatterer_ about Miss Elton. You've seen it, of course!"--and she laughed with cheerful malice and licked her lips like a cat.

"About Miss Elton? In the _Chatterer_? I haven't the least idea of what you are talking," said Mrs. Lenox in a dazed way.

"It's over there," returned the lady, with a comprehensive wave of the thumb. "You can read it. Lena said it couldn't be anybody else." Mrs.

Lenox rose and took the magazine from the table. She walked over to the window and deliberately turned her back on her hostess. Her hands shook a little as she turned page after page till her eyes fell on this little paragraph.

"In a certain western city which is famous for its flour and lumber interests, there lives a bachelor who has made it still more ill.u.s.trious in the realms of art and literature. It is a standing insult to feminine humanity that a man both famous and wealthy should remain single, but, so far, all attacks upon the citadel of his heart have proved futile. Rumor now has it that a capitulation is imminent, but the besieging force has been driven to unusual measures to secure it. A college training gives a girl the advantage over her fellows, both in expedients and in determination. Not content with the extraordinary attractions conferred on her by her own beauty, the young lady who is ahead in the race for the gay bachelor's heart has been carrying the war into Egypt. Gossip saith that there are quiet hours spent by these two in the seclusion of the bachelor's stately home, when, doubtless, his masculine heart melteth within him, and the bonds of his servitude are tightened. Still, it is a dangerous game for a supposedly reputable girl to play, isn't it? and a little--well, let us call it unconventional."

Mrs. Lenox shut the magazine and her own teeth.

"It is inconceivable that such stuff should be printed, and that people should buy it," she said. "But you see it is so vague that it might refer to any one at any place, and even if we knew who was meant, it is too insignificant a piece of small malice to receive anything but contempt. And now good-by, Mrs. Quincy. I hope these coming spring days are going to help you to better health."

"Good-by. I always appreciate your visits," whined Mrs. Quincy. "I'm sure, with all you have to do, I don't wonder you don't come oftener. I know there's nothin' to draw you."

Mrs. Lenox went away with a deep breath and a longing for fresh air. She shook her head at the waiting coachman and said, "I am going to walk, Emil."

She moved along in a cloud of conjectures, not that the small paragraph seemed to her very important, but she was a little sickened by the sudden glimpse of petty minds, who, being rich, stay by preference in the slums.

"Mrs. Quincy, like Mrs. Percival, makes me feel that life is not a big thing to be lived for some big reason, but an affair to be scrambled through day by day, grabbing everything you can, and hating those who have grabbed more. What a way to worry through seventy or eighty years!"

she groaned to herself.

Almost at her own door she met Ram Juna, who turned with her to make one of his ponderous calls, while she sat and talked with him of emptiness and philosophy, with that vivacious patience that becomes a habit with women of the world; but when the door opened and her husband appeared, accompanied by d.i.c.k Percival and Ellery Norris she heaved a distinct sigh of relief.

"We know that the dinner hour is looming on the horizon, and we're not going to stay," said d.i.c.k. "But your husband has some civic reform monographs that I thought I would borrow while he was in the lending mood."

"You needn't apologize, d.i.c.k," she laughed. "You are more than tolerated in this house."

There came a sharp noise, and Madeline Elton, with pale face and eyes big, stood in the doorway. Every one knew that something had happened, and Mrs. Lenox, who saw the rolled magazine in the nervous hand, guessed its purport in a flash.

"My dear girl!" she cried, running forward, "you are not going to let such a pin-p.r.i.c.k hurt you!"

"Oh, Vera," exclaimed the girl, putting her face down on her friend's shoulder, "you know! It does hurt. I can't help it," and she sobbed.

The three men looked on in puzzled helpless masculinity, and the Swami surveyed the scene as the two women clung to each other.

"Vera," said Mr. Lenox, "are we permitted to know what this means?" Mrs.

Lenox kept her arm around Madeline's shoulder as she turned.

"It's only an ugly little fling in the _Chatterer_, Frank," she said, "and it sounds as though it might refer to Madeline. It is nothing, but I dare say my dear girl does not enjoy a bit of dirt even on her outer garment. And, Madeline, very likely it is not meant for you."

"Oh, yes, it is," cried the girl. "Some one sent me this marked copy.

And I went there once when I thought he had invited a crowd to see some tapestries. There was no one else there. There is just so much truth in it."

"Would you rather that we should not see it?" asked Mr. Lenox.

"I'm afraid every one will see it," said Madeline shamefacedly, as she held out the guilty pages. The three men leaned their heads over the table with a curiosity that would have done credit to women, while Ram Juna still looked on.

"I have already beheld the writing," he said suavely. "Mr. Early gave way to unwonted anger when he saw. The lady must have an enemy."

"That is it," cried Madeline, turning upon him swiftly. "I think I am not so much hurt by the scandal--every one who knows me will believe better of me--but what cuts is that there should be some one who wants to hurt me. I--I've always thought of the world as a friendly place. Who is it that hates me?"

"Bah, it is a very small enemy who seeks small revenge," said the Swami, whose own heart was filled with contempt and irritation. This was not according to his plan. "In India, we do not so revenge."

Mr. Lenox stepped back to the fireplace, from which point a man always surveys the world at an advantage.

"It isn't worth an extra heart-beat, Miss Elton," he said. "Ignore it and your world will promptly forget it."

"But, Mr. Lenox, you do not understand. It is not the question of the truth or falsehood of the story that shakes me. As you say, that is too absurd. But I shall always wonder who is my enemy, and why."

Norris was looking at her with awakened terror. With the intuition of love, he had read the processes of her self-conquest at the time of d.i.c.k's marriage. But here was a new possibility. Could it be that this fair and delicate creature was now to be enwoofed by Sebastian Early, whom at this juncture Ellery characterized to himself as a "fat toad"?

He made up his mind that it would not do to trust, as he had been doing, to time to stand his friend. He must also bestir himself.

"I wonder," he said aloud, "I wonder if Miss Huntress knows anything about it. I have a dim idea that some one told me that she wrote things for the _Chatterer_. Our society editor, you know."

"But even if she did dislike me--and I don't know her from Adam--how could she know?" said Madeline, turning on him. "You see I was alone with Mr. Early, and I am sure, for certain reasons," here Ellery was horrified to see a little flush creeping over her face, "that he would not be guilty of any attempt to besmirch me. And no one else knew that I was there--except--" A sudden startled look came over her face and she looked involuntarily at d.i.c.k. "Except--" she said, and her voice trailed off.

"Besides, these small acts are those of women," said the Swami placidly.

d.i.c.k had caught Madeline's look of astonished comprehension and he turned pale as he saw. Now, with Ram Juna's words, conviction flashed upon him. He remembered Lena's dislike for Madeline, of which he had made light; he remembered the little insignificant woman whom he had met in his wife's boudoir; the fact that he was Mr. Early's nearest neighbor clapped a.s.surance on suspicion, and his muddled mind was capable of only one idea. No one else, least of all, Madeline, must suspect her little meanness.

"d.i.c.k, you have an inkling," said Mr. Lenox abruptly, but in all innocence.

"Not in the least," said d.i.c.k hurriedly. "I a.s.sure you that if I had the slightest reason to suspect any one, I would be the first to speak.

I--you know I think everything of you, Madeline." He went toward her in a futile way, with outstretched hand, but Madeline's eyes were down, and apparently she did not see the friendly overture. His face looked pale, strained and old as he stood for a moment before her, and the others surveyed them in silence.

"As you say," said d.i.c.k, in sprightly fas.h.i.+on, "the best thing is to forget the whole incident. Lenox, if you will give me those papers, I must be off."

"Our lines lie parallel," said the Swami. "Will you permit that I walk with you?"

The four who remained stood awkwardly during the departure, and with the closing of the door, Mr. Lenox gave an inarticulate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

"Miss Elton," he said, "I think your problem is solved."

"You mean it was Mrs. Percival?"

"You are as sure as I."

"And d.i.c.k knew," said Ellery. He blushed as he spoke.

"Oh no, Mr. Norris!" cried Madeline in sharp distress. "That would he unendurable. And besides, he said he didn't."

"d.i.c.k lied," Ellery stated calmly.