We had arived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. But he only glansed bitterly at the Windows and observed that they had taken in the mat with Welcome on it, as far as he was concerned. And went away.
Although we have never had a mat with Welcome on it.
Dear Dairy, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and kind-hearted, and it would be painfull to him. But to who else can I turn in my extremity?
I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if kindly treated will do anything. But if aproached in the wrong way, or asked to do somthing against his principals, he becomes a Roaring Lion.
He would never be bully-ed into giving a Man work, even so touching a Personallity as Adrian's.
LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford and is in a terrable temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not actualy fighting.
"He could probably run a bus, and releace some one who can fight," he shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands. Don't let me see him, that's all."
"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold furey.
"Just keep him out of my sight," father snaped. "I supose I can't keep him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies"
"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornfull maner. "While you help your bank account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for Heaven's sake don't put it on altruistic grounds."
She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to tell him the Familey was out.
Were it not for our afections, and the necessity for getting married, so there would be an increase in the Population, how happy we could all be!
LATER: I have seen father.
It was a painfull evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father cuting the ends off cigars in a viscious maner. Mother was NON EST, and had I not had my memories, it would have been a Sickning Time.
I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usualy does, like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a large chair, and except for an ocasional sneaze, was quiet.
Only once did my parent adress me in an hour, when he said:
"What the devil's making you sneaze so?"
"My noze, I think, sir," I said meekly.
"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small noze to be making such a racket."
I was cut to the heart, dear Dairy. One of my dearest dreams has always been a delicate noze, slightly arched and long enough to be truly aristocratic. Not realy acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little noze--hate it--hate it--HATE IT.
"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly heredatary and partly carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infansy it would have been a good noze, and not a pug. And----"
"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your noze. As a matter of fact, it's a good noze. It's exactly the sort of noze you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman noze?"
I have not been feeling very well, dear Dairy, and so I sudenly began to weap.
"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!"
"Behind a noze," I said, feebly.
So he said he liked my noze, even although somwhat swolen, and he kissed it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about ready to be tackeled. So I observed:
"Father, will you do me a faver?"
"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Busness is pretty good now, and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War Department. I--supose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a Secret between the to of us."
I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing somthing for Adrian? A mere bagatelle.
"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?"
He remembered the name.
"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intencely.
"What sort of a favor?"
"Her couzin has written a play. She is very fond of her couzin, and anxious to have him suceed. And it is a lovely play."
He held me off and stared at me.
"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You incomprehensable child! Why didn't you tell your mother?"
"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought, by buying a Box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's couzin's play suceed. And as a result I was draged home, and shamefully treated in the most mortafying maner. But I am acustomed to brutalaty."
"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I won't finanse the play, but short of that I'll do what I can."
However he was not so agreable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He delivered a firm no.
"Although," he said, "sombody ought to do it, and show the falasy of the Play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a living, unless he will hustel around and make it. In the second place an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can force Capitle to employ Labor."
"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and Capitle is to dignafied to say anything, most people are going to side with Labor."
He gazed at me.
"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true femanine fashion."
"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for Work? He intends to force you to employ him."
"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a feirce voice. "Well, let him come. I can stand up for my Principals, to. I'll throw him out, all right."
Dear Dairy, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true it is that strategy will do more than violance!
We have aranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a decayed Gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said nothing about violance, leaving that to arange itself.
I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I am to excited to sleep.
Feel horid. Forbiden to go out this morning.
JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his Busness known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War Department.
"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl up."
"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Realy you must allow me I must inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to settle. Besides, it is a delacate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get the Order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place it with him."
"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat anything for keeping your own Counsel!"
I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickning.
Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had to sit through silver vegatable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vazes and a cabushon saphire and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows what. But at last she said:
"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!"
I closed my eyes.
"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?"
"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would give him up, because of Familey objections?"
"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he made love to that--that creature, I am posatively SHAKEN."
We sat in somber silence. Then she said:
"I darsay he detests the Heroine, doesn't he?"
"He tolarates her," I said, with a shrug.
More silense. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my BOUDOIR.
"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone.
"Jane!"
"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old thing."
I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the Adventuress was at least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and not at all femanine.
Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most madening way and put her hand on my Forehead.
"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for to days," she said. "Your head's hot. I think you need a musterd foot bath and to go to bed."
"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftyest fashion, "Miss Barbara is woried, not ill. And please close the door when you go out."
Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her.
"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from Miss Barbara."
And she went out, slaming the door.
"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertanence. Old servant or not, she ought to have her mouth slaped."
Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out.
First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock.
"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a flivver, you know."
"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a thing, he does it."
"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell your Actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see the Policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers."
It was then that a terrable thought struck me. What if Adrian considered it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he prefered the failure of Miss Everett's couzin's play to a bruize on the eye? What, in short, if he refused?
Dear Dairy, I was stupafied. I knew not which way to turn. For Men are not like Women, who are dependible and anxious to get along, and will sacrifise anything for Success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones they love best, if the smallest Things do not suit them, such as cold soup, or sleaves to long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they have not been consulted about beforhand.
"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!"
"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did ache, for that matter. It is acheing now, dear Dairy.
However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneeking, I went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my SEANCE in his room while he was changing his garments behind a screan, as it was marked on a dressing case.
It was then five o'clock.
How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, dear Dairy, to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while people who guessed not the inner trepadation of my heart past and repast, and glansed at me and at Leila's pink hat above.
At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he aproached, strideing along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I! I beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say.
"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky today. Friday is my best day."
"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else.
"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you say to a cup of tea in the restarant?"
How grown up and like a DEBUTANTE I felt, dear Dairy, going to have tea as if I had it every day at School, with a handsome actor across! Although somwhat uneasy also, owing to the posibility of the Familey coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would invite her to come in.
WHICH I DID NOT.
Dear Dairy, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing busness, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be reporters and so on, he became thoughtfull.
"It's realy incredably clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right it ought to be a Stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing foney about it?"
"Foney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not."
He kept on leaning over the table.
"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the Play?"
Oh, Dairy, Dairy!
And just then I looked up, and the Adventuress was staring in the door at me with the MEANEST look on her face.
I draw a Veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say that he considers me exactly the tipe he finds most atractive, and that he does not consider my noze to short. We had a long dispute about this. He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an acquiline tipe. He says I am romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somwhat reckless, and he gave me good advice about doing what my Familey consider for my good, at least until I come out.
But our talk was all to short, for a fat man with three rings on came in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting there in a drinking party.
And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the manager about the arangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully" and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awfull face I ever saw!
I colapsed in my chair.
Dear Dairy, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And dress up like a Gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope I'm a Gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away.
And now, dear Dairy, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneaze. How terrable a thing is Love.
LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not home tonight and I cannot apeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking to, and mother is having the vibrater used on her spine. If I felt better I would run away.
JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrable.
Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from his saying that he had come to ask for somthing, and so on, that it was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford refused to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The Reporters got it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought one in. It is headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and the doctor is with her.
LATER: Adrian has disapeared. The manager has just called up, and with shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little after ten, and has not been seen since.
It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost time now for the Matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do?
SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Dairy, I have the meazles. I am all broken out, and look horible. But what is a sickness of the Body compared to the agony of my Mind? Oh, dear Dairy, to think of what has happened since last I saw your stainless Pages!
What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying to help another who
did not deserve to be helped. But if he decieved me, he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight.
I have been given a sleeping medacine, and until it takes affect I shall write out the tradgedy of this day, omiting nothing. The trained nurse is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed.
I have tried it on, dear Dairy, and it is very becoming. If they insist on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortible. But at least a trained nurse leads her own Life and is not bully-ed by her Familey. And more, she does good constantly.
I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and perhaps go to the Front. I know a lot of college men in the American Ambulence.
I shall never go on the stage, dear Dairy. I know now its decietfullness and visisitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a result of a theatricle Adonis. I am through with the theater forever.
I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disapeared.
Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that somthing had slipped, and I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once beloved name.)
While dressing I percieved that my chest and arms were covered with small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I sliped downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glansed in, and ye gods!
It was the Adventuress.
Drawing somwhat back, I listened. Oh, Dairy, what a revalation!
"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour the performance begins, and--he cannot be found."
"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff maner. "What can my daughter Barbara know about him?"
The Adventuress snifed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, all right. And I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house."
"Certainly she is in the house," said mother.
"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to beleive she has run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a Skeme, he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last night. He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing further of your daughter's Skeme. But I know he went out to meet her. He has not been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours."
The Best of Mary Roberts Rinehart Page 164
