Revelations of a Wife Part 21

I asked the question timorously.

d.i.c.ky laughed. "Well! of course she didn't go into raptures over the affair," he said, "but I think she learned a lesson. At least I endeavored to help her learn one. I read the riot act to her after you left."

"Oh! d.i.c.ky!" I protested, "that was hardly fair?"

"I know it," he admitted shamefacedly. "I am afraid I did rather take it out on the mater when I found you had really gone. But she deserved a good deal of it. You have done everything in your power to make things pleasant for her since she came, and she has treated you about as shabbily as was possible."

"Oh! not that bad, d.i.c.ky," I protested again, but I knew in my heart that what he said was true. His mother had treated me most unfairly.

I could not help a little malicious thrill of pleasure that he had finally resented it for me.

"Just that bad, little Miss Forgiveness," d.i.c.ky returned, smiling at me tenderly.

My heart leaped at the words. When d.i.c.ky is in good humor he coins all sorts of tender names for me. I knew that to d.i.c.ky our quarrel was as if it had never happened.

"I'll give you a pointer about mother, Madge," d.i.c.ky went on. "When you see her, act as if nothing had happened at all, it's the only way to manage her. She can be most charming when she wants to be, but every once in a while she takes one of those silent tantrums, and there is no living with her until she gets over it."

I didn't make any comment on this speech, fearing to say the wrong thing.

"But I didn't start to tell you about Katie." d.i.c.ky switched the subject determinedly. "I might as well get it off my chest. When your cousin came in and introduced himself the first thing I did was to attempt to strike him."

"Oh, d.i.c.ky, d.i.c.ky," I moaned, horrified, "what did he do?"

d.i.c.ky's lips twisted grimly.

"Just put out his hand and caught my arm, saying with that calm and quiet voice of his:

"'I shall not return any blow you may give me, Mr. Graham, so please do not do anything you will regret when you recover yourself!'

"I realized his strength of body and the grip he had on my arm and even my half-crazed brain recognized the power of his spirit. I came to, apologized, and we had a long talk that made me realize what a thundering good fellow he must be.

"I don't see why you never fell in love with him," d.i.c.ky continued.

"He's a better man than I am," he paraphrased half wistfully.

"But I love YOU," I whispered.

Across d.i.c.ky's face there fell a shadow. I realized that thoughtlessly I had wounded him.

XVI

INTERRUPTED SIGHT-SEEING

"Margaret!" My mother-in-law's tone was almost tragic. "Richard has gone off with my trunk checks."

"Why, of course, he has," I returned, wondering a little at her anxious tone. "I suppose he expects to give them to an expressman and have the trunks brought up this morning."

"Richard never remembered anything in his life," said his mother tartly. "Those trunks ought to be here before I leave for the day."

"Oh, I don't think it would be possible for them to arrive here before we have to start, even if d.i.c.ky gives them to an expressman right away, as I am sure he will do."

It seemed queer to be defending d.i.c.ky to his mother, but I felt a curious little thrill of resentment that she should criticise him.

I sometimes may judge d.i.c.ky harshly myself, but I don't care to hear criticism of him from any other lips, even those of his mother.

"Richard will carry those checks in his pocket until he comes home again, if he is lucky enough not to lose them," said his mother decidedly. "I wish you would telephone him at his studio and remind him that they must be looked after."

Obediently I went to the telephone. I knew d.i.c.ky had had plenty of time to get to the studio, as it was but a short walk from our apartment.

"Madison Square 3694," I said in answer to Central's request for "number."

When the answer came I almost dropped the receiver in my surprise. It was not d.i.c.ky's voice that came to my ears, but that of a stranger, a woman's voice, rich and musical.

"Yes?" with a rising inflection, "this is Mr. Graham's studio. He has not yet reached here. What message shall I give him, please, when he comes in?"

"Please ask him to call up his home." Then I hung up the receiver and turned from the telephone, putting down my agitation with a firm hand until I could be alone.

"d.i.c.ky has not yet reached the studio," I said to his mother calmly.

"I think very probably he has gone first to see an expressman about your trunks. If you will pardon me I have a few things to attend to before we start on our trip. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you." Mrs. Graham's tone was still the cold, courteous one that she used in addressing me. "I suppose I can ring for Katie when I am ready to have my dress fastened?"

"Oh! by all means," I returned. I thought bitterly of the little services I used to perform for my own mother. How gladly I would antic.i.p.ate the wants of d.i.c.ky's mother if she would only show me affection instead of the ill-concealed aversion with which she regarded me.

My mother-in-law went into her room, and I, walking swiftly to mine, closed and locked the door behind me. I threw myself face downward on the bed, my favorite posture when I wished to think things out.

The voice of the woman at the studio haunted me. It was strange, but familiar, and I could not remember where I had heard it.

What was a woman doing in d.i.c.ky's studio at this time in the morning, anyway? I knew that d.i.c.ky employed feminine models, but I also knew that he always made it a point to be at the studio before the model was due to arrive.

"I suppose I am an awful crank," he had laughed once, "but no models rummaging among my things for mine."

I knew that d.i.c.ky employed no secretary, or at least he had told me that he did not I had heard him laughingly promise himself that when his income reached $10,000 a year he would hire one.

All at once the solution to the mystery dawned upon me. The rich, musical voice belonged to Grace Draper, the beautiful girl whom d.i.c.ky had seen first on a train on our memorable trip to Marvin.

Why hadn't d.i.c.ky told me that she was at the studio? The question rankled in the back of my brain.

That was not my main concern, however. What swept me with a sudden primitive emotion, which I know must be jealousy, was the picture of that beautiful face, that wonderful figure in daily close companions.h.i.+p with my husband.

Suppose she should fall in love with d.i.c.ky! To my mind I did not see how any woman could help it. Would she have any scruples about endeavoring to win d.i.c.ky's love from me?

My common sense told me that this was the veriest nonsense. But I could no more help my feelings than I could control the shape of my nose.

The ring of the telephone bell put a temporary end to my speculations.

I pulled myself together in order to talk calmly to d.i.c.ky, for I knew it must be he who was calling.