The Best of Mary Roberts Rinehart

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better now. As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all day that I was decieved. But the real reason was a new set of furs. I had secured the dresses and the promise of the necklace on a Poem and a Photograph, and I thought that a good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows that it does not do to be grasping.

  HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRADGEDY.

  But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it "Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always love him. But I told him that the Familey objected to him, and that this was to end everything between us. They had started the phonograph in the library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from that. It was really a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it myself, because, if there had been a Harold, it would have broken his Heart.

  Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give it to mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in its work, including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. It would go to the Dead Letter Office, since there was no Harold. It could not come back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out carefully. It looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, and nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew!

  "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay." Burns.

  Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood gazing down at me.

  "You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name."

  "I don't understand you."

  "For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his name wasn't Harold."

  "I don't see how it concerns you," I responded.

  "Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First as a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, when you are a real Debutante----"

  "You've concealed your infatuation bravely."

  "It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholly--hello! A letter to him!"

  "Why, so it is," I said in a scornfull tone.

  He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me.

  "No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!"

  Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock.

  "It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly.

  "Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not a word to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his hand to me. "Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since you absolutely refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's Valentine the Familey is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to me. I'll tell them a few things."

  I was stunned. Would anybody have beleived it? To pick a name out of the air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to find that it actualy belonged to some one--was sickning.

  "It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a common name. There must be plenty of Valentines."

  "Sure there are, lace paper and Cupids--lots of that sort. But there's only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to the wall! I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of yours. Always have been. Always will be. The chances are against the Familey letting him get this letter. I'll give it to him."

  "GIVE it to him?"

  "Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over the holadays."

  "Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice.

  "Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprize to you. Yes, he's here, with bells on."

  He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat down on the corner of the writing table!

  "You don't know how all this has releived my mind," he said. "The poor chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of course this explains it. He' s the sort to take Love hard. At college he took everything hard--like to have died once with German meazles."

  He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He pounced on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word.

  "Hello!" he said. "Familey again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all right. Well, who would have thought it!"

  My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was compelled to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering.

  "Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerfull tone that made me cold all over. "I'll be the Cupid for your Valentine. See? Far be it from me to see Love's young dream wiped out by a hardhearted Familey. I'm going to see this thing through. You count on me, Barbara. I'll arrange that you get a chance to see each other, Familey or no Familey. Old Hal has been looking down his nose long enough. When's your first party?"

  "Tomorrow night," I gasped out.

  "Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams's, isn't it, at the Club?"

  I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I had been wicked in decieving my dear Familey and now I was to pay the Penalty. He would know at once that I had made him up, or rather he did not know me and therefore could not possibly be in Love with me. And what then?

  "But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the Familey will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. Got any choice as to a name?"

  "Carter" I said franticaly. "I think I'd better tell you. I----"

  "How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's going to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!"

  And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me.

  I wanted to die.

  When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing. It could not be true. I went upstairs and manacured my nails, which usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's.

  But nothing could calm me. I had made my own Fate, and must lie in it. And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes frightened.

  "Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!"

  I dropped my manacure scizzors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box, and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then Carter was right. There was an H after all!

  Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were poping out of her head.

  "I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell! What shall we do with them?"

  "You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was an empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick."

  She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and she snatched the card out of my hand.

  "From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, when the door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more ridiculous Episode of this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go back to school--Xmas or no Xmas."

  I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have told her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as gentle as a macadam pavment. I am one who has to be handled with Gentleness. A kind word will do anything with me, but harsh treatment only makes me determined. I then become inflexable as iron.

  That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and threatened, which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am concerned. I refused to yeild an inch, and it ended in my having my dinner in my room, and mother threatening to keep me home from the Party the next night. It was not a threat, if she had only known it.

  But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, a
nd nothing aparently wrong except that mother was very dignafied with me, I began to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon Jane called me up.

  "How are you?" she said.

  "Oh, I'm all right."

  "Everything smooth?"

  "Well, smooth enough."

  "Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are."

  "I knew they were crazy about something."

  "You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an inch. Marry your Heart's Desire, no matter who butts in."

  Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father and mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about it, and there was nothing to do but go on.

  All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a beat. But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I am naturaly truthful, as far as possible--I was compelled to go, although my heart was breaking.

  I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight discription, which properly belongs in every Theme.

  All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from knickerbockers to college men in their Freshmen year, and one is likely to dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last in their perambulaters. It is rather startling to have about six feet of black trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one to dance and then to get one's eyes raised as far as the top of what looks like a particularly thin pair of tree trunks and see a little boy's face.

  As this Theme is to contain discription I shall discribe the ball room of the club where the eventful party occurred.

  The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a Charlotte Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they had put "Merry Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandaliers were made into Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of the balls fell off during the Cotillion, and went down the back of one of the girl's dresses, and they were compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the dressing room.

  The favors were insignifacant, as usual. It is not considered good taste to have elaberate things for the school crowd. But when I think of the silver things Sis always brought home, and remember that I took away about six Christmas Stockings, a toy Baloon, four Whistles, a wooden Canary in a cage and a box of Talcum Powder, I feel that things are not fair in this World.

  Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said:

  "Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The Familey is that upset."

  "Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the Familey is half as upset as I am, it is throwing a fit at this minute."

  We were early, of course. My mother beleives in being on time, and besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was on her knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that I could not go down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her.

  "What'll your mother say?" she said." And you with your new dress and all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home now, Miss Barbara."

  Well, that was true enough. There would be a Riot if I went home, and I knew it.

  "I'll see the Stuard and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea sets me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good girl, Miss Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish."

  She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not have run anywhere. My legs were entirely numb.

  In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very likely I would be a homless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that never, never could I return to my Dear Ones, when my terrable actions became known.

  Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed me with sympathy.

  "I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your Familey acting so outragously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. "Don't trust Carter too much. He is perfectly in fatuated with Leila, and he will play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL."

  "Loathesome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I trust no one, these days."

  "I don't wonder your Faith is gone," she observed. But she was talking with one eye on a mirror.

  "Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full of rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look gastly."

  "I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain my ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge."

  "Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I don't understand you, Bab; you are totaly changed."

  "I am suffering," I said. I was to.

  Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up my wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged.

  "I hope you have saved the Cotillion for me," it said. And it was signed. H----!

  "Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly."Don't tell me he is here, and that that's from him!"

  I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly:

  "He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the Cotillion with him although I shall probably be disinherited and thrown out into the World, as a result."

  I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and into the ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once saved one of the smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind the school, when she was skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I remember that, inside the door, Jane said "Courage!" in a low tence voice, and that I stepped on somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The shock of that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. Adams and Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow said:

  "All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed."

  It was Carter.

  "He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go through the formalaty of an introduction. He's positively twittering with excitement."

  "Carter" I said desparately. "I want to tell you somthing first. I've got myself in an awful mess. I----"

  "Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of your young lives. I wish ~I~ could fall in Love. It must be bully."

  "Carter----!"

  "Got his note, didn't you?"

  "Yes, I----"

  "Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr. Grosvenor."

  Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth went perfectly dry.

  It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort of thing. But I have concluded that amorus experiences are not always agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him.

  "Now go to it, you to," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be conspicuous. That's all."

  And he left us.

  "Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was too much occupied with hateing him to care about dancing, or anything. But I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very proud Familey and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn with anguish.

  "Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our being together like this!"

  "It's not so surprizing, is it? We've got to be together if we are dancing."

  "Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that."

  "You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freesingly. "You know perfectly well that you never saw me before."

  "Barbara! With your dear little Letter in my breast pocket at this moment!
"

  "I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes."

  "Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think that we have never danced together before!"

  "We must have a talk," I said desparately. "Can't we go somwhere, away from the noise?"

  "That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we are to overcome the Familey objection to me, we'll have to be cautious, Barbara."

  "Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you think of me, and I----"

  "I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion for me, haven't you? If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT."

  He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprized.

  The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up, too, and cluched my arm.

  "You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's wild about you. I can see it in his eyes."

  "Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot."

  She looked at me with her mouth open.

  "Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked away.

  It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulaters up, and of course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It is deadly stupid.

  But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who is a wreched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty, but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second couzin once removed or no second couzin once removed, to say she used them.