The Best of Mary Roberts Rinehart

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  "Just a moment," said mother, in a fridgid tone. "Am I to understand that this--this Mr. Egleston is----"

  "He is my Husband."

  Ah, dear Dairy, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to escape. Then I fled, like a Gilty Soul. It was gastly.

  On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my face, and then cluched me by the arm.

  "Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your complexion?"

  But I was desparate.

  "Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go. Somthing horible has happened."

  She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the street, followed by her peircing gaze.

  Although realizing that my Life, at least the part of it pertaining to sentament, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him. I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play. Luckaly I got a taxi at the corner, and I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot persparation, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty five minutes until the curtain went up.

  I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I doubted my own father, who can be very feirce on ocasion. What if, madened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being aproached by Adrian, been driven to violance? What if, in my endeaver to help one who was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime?

  Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON.

  On driving madly into the mill yard, I sudenly remembered that it was Saturday and a half holaday. The mill was going, but the offices were closed. Father, then, was imured in the safety of his Club, and could not be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninty cents.

  I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very thirsty, so I went to the hydrent in the yard and got a drink of water. I did not as yet suspect meazles, but laid it all to my agony of mind.

  Haveing thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard Policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of the time, and the Familey is not expected to visit the mill, because of dirt and possable accidents.

  I aproached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me.

  "Officer" I said, in my most dignafied tones. "I am looking for a--for a Gentleman who came here this morning to look for work."

  "There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said. "Which one would it be, now?"

  How my heart sank!

  "About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But perhaps I'll remember him."

  But, although Adrian is of an unusual tipe, I felt that I could not describe him, besides having a terrable headache. So I asked if he would lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look.

  "You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay to converce, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no Adrian.

  I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office like a furey.

  "Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden him?"

  "Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid maner. "He is at his hotel, I beleive, putting beefstake on a bad eye. Beleive me, Bab----"

  "Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wrechedness. "What is he to me? Or his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no performence."

  "Look here," Carter said sudenly, "you look awfuly queer, Bab. Your face----"

  I stamped my foot.

  "What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I have ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be sent to Switzerland with that on my Soul?"

  "Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that, are they? I--I don't want you so far away."

  Dear Dairy, I am unsuspisious by nature, beleiving all mankind to be my friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter Brooks' eyes as they turned on me.

  "Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You WISH to ruin him."

  I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away.

  "Look here," he said. "I'll tell you somthing, but please keep back. Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning. I do not know anything about your Actor-friend. He's probably only been run over or somthing. But I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I sugested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask your father for somthing, and your father blew up by saying that he knew about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did not want.

  "And in to minutes Beresford hit him, and got a responce. It was a Million dollars worth."

  So he babbled on. But what were his words to me?

  Dear Dairy, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although fatle to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only Adrian's possable tradgic fate. Sudenly I colapsed, and asked for a drink of water, feeling horible, very wobbley and unable to keep my knees from bending.

  And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge to bring out the rest of the rash, folowed by a sleep--it being meazles and not smallpox.

  Oh, dear Dairy, what a story I learned when haveing wakened and feeling better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not being allowed in.

  Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, haveing thrown Beresford out and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape, which he atempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked in, because of spies. The plant is under Milatary Guard.

  AND THERE HE HAD BEEN COMPELED TO DRAG A WHEELBARROW BACK AND FORTH, CONTAINING CHARCOAL FOR A SMALL FURNASE, FOR HOURS!

  Even when Carter found him he could not be releaced, as father was in hiding from Reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers.

  HE LABORED UNTIL TEN P. M., while the theater remained dark, and people got their money back.

  I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's couzin.

  * * *

  The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospitle. My career is ended, my Life is blasted.

  I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today I have ruined, compeling him to do manual labor for hours, although unacustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I beleive has a future. But my love for him is dead. Dear Dairy, he decieved me, and that is one thing I cannot forgive.

  So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I reflect about many Things. But one speach rings in my ears over and over.

  Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange maner, looking at me with inscrutible eyes.

  "Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away."

  WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT?

  * * *

  Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I darsay. Perhaps it is as well. I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t----

  CHAPTER IV

  BAB'S BURGLAR

  MONEY is the root of all Evil."

  I do not know who said the above famous words, but they are true. I know it but to well. For had I never gone on an Allowence, and been in debt and always worried about the way silk stockings wear out, et cetera, I would be having a much better time. For who can realy enjoy a dress when it is not paid for or only partialy
so?

  I have decided to write out this story, which is true in every particuler, except here and there the exact words of conversation, and then sell it to a Magazine. I intend to do this for to reasons. First, because I am in Debt, especialy for to tires, and second, because parents will then read it, and learn that it is not possable to make a good appearence, including furs, theater tickets and underwear, for a Thousand Dollars a year, even if one wears plain uncouth things beneath. I think this, too. My mother does not know how much clothes and other things, such as manacuring, cost these days. She merely charges things and my father gets the bills. Nor do I consider it fair to expect me to atend Social Functions and present a good appearence on a small Allowence, when I would often prefer a simple game of tennis or to lie in a hammick, or to converce with some one I am interested in, of the Other Sex.

  It was mother who said a Thousand dollars a year and no extras. But I must confess that to me, after ten dollars a month at school, it seemed a large sum. I had but just returned for the summer holadays, and the Familey was having a counsel about me. They always have a counsel when I come home, and mother makes a list, begining with the Dentist.

  "I should make it a Thousand," she said to father. "The chiid is in shameful condition. She is never still, and she fidgits right through her clothes."

  "Very well," said father, and got his Check Book. "That is $83.33 1/3 cents a month. Make it thirty four cents. But no bills, Barbara."

  "And no extras," my mother observed, in a stern tone.

  "Candy, tennis balls and matinee tickets?" I asked.

  "All included," said father. "And Church collection also, and ice cream and taxicabs and Xmas gifts."

  Although pretending to consider it small, I realy felt that it was a large amount, and I was filled with joy when father ordered a Check Book for me with my name on each Check. Ah, me! How happy I was!

  I was two months younger then and possably childish in some ways. For I remember that in my exhiliration I called up Jane Raleigh the moment she got home. She came over, and I showed her the book.

  "Bab!" she said. "A thousand dollars! Why, it is wealth."

  "It's not princly," I observed. "But it will do, Jane."

  We then went out and took a walk, and I treated her to a Facial Masage, having one myself at the same time, having never been able to aford it before.

  "It's Heavenley, Bab," Jane observed to me, through a hot towle. "If I were you I should have one daily. Because after all, what are features if the skin is poor?"

  We also had manacures, and as the young person was very nice, I gave her a dollar. As I remarked to Jane, it had taken all the lines out of my face, due to the Spring Term and examinations. And as I put on my hat, I could see that it had done somthing else. For the first time my face showed Character. I looked mature, if not, indeed, even more.

  I paid by a Check, although they did not care about taking it, prefering cash. But on calling up the Bank accepted it, and also another check for cold cream, and a fancy comb.

  I had, as I have stated, just returned from my Institution of Learning, and now, as Jane and I proceded to a tea place I had often viewed with hungry eyes but no money to spend, it being expencive, I suddenly said:

  "Jane, do you ever think how ungrateful we are to those who cherish us through the school year and who, although stern at times, are realy our Best Friends?"

  "Cherish us!" said Jane. "I haven't noticed any cherishing. They tolarate me, and hardly that."

  "I fear you are pessamistic," I said, reproving her but mildly, for Jane's school is well known to be harsh and uncompromizing. "However, my own feelings to my Instructers are diferent and quite friendly, especialy at a distance. I shall send them flowers."

  It was rather awful, however, after I had got inside the shop, to find that violets, which I had set my heart on as being the school flour, were five dollars a hundred. Also there were more teachers than I had considered, some of them making but small impression on account of mildness.

  THERE WERE EIGHT.

  "Jane!" I said, in desparation. "Eight without the housekeeper! And she must be remembered because if not she will be most unpleasant next fall, and swipe my chaffing dish. Forty five dollars is a lot of Money."

  "You only have to do it once," said Jane, who could aford to be calm, as it was costing her nothing.

  However, I sent the violets aud paid with a check. I felt better by subtracting the amount from one thousand. I had still $945.00, less the facials and so on, which had been ten.

  This is not a finantial story, although turning on Money. I do not wish to be considered as thinking only of Wealth. Indeed, I have always considered that where my heart was in question I would always decide for Love and penury rather than a Castle and greed. In this I differ from my sister Leila, who says that under no circumstanses would she ever inspect a refrigerater to see if the cook was wasting anything.

  I was not worried about the violets, as I consider Money spent as but water over a damn, and no use worrying about. But I was no longer hungry, and I observed this to Jane.

  "Oh, come on," she said, in an impatient maner. "I'll pay for it."

  I can read Jane's inmost thoughts, and I read them then. She considered that I had cold feet financially, although with almost $945.00 in the bank. Therefore I said at once:

  "Don't be silly. It is my party. And we'll take some candy home."

  However, I need not have worried, for we met Tommy Gray in the tea shop, and he paid for everything.

  I pause here to reflect. How strange to look back, and think of all that has since hapened, and that I then considered that Tommy Gray was interested in Jane and never gave me a thought. Also that I considered that the look he gave me now and then was but a friendly glanse! Is it not strange that Romanse comes thus into our lives, through the medium of a tea-cup, or an eclair, unheralded and unsung, yet leaving us never the same again?

  Even when Tommy bought us candy and carried mine under his arm while leaving Jane to get her own from the counter, I suspected nothing. But when he said to me, "Gee, Bab, you're geting to be a regular Person," and made no such remark to Jane, I felt that it was rather pointed.

  Also, on walking up the Avenue, he certainly walked nearer me than Jane. I beleive she felt it, to, for she made a sharp speach or to about his Youth, and what he meant to do when he got big. And he replied by saying that she was big enough allready, which hurt because Jane is plump and will eat starches anyhow.

  Tommy Gray had improved a great deal since Xmas. He had at that time apeared to long for his head. I said this to Jane, SOTO VOCE, while he was looking at some neckties in a window.

  "Well, his head is big enough now," she said in a snapish maner. "It isn't very long, Bab, since you considered him a mere Child."

  "He is twenty," I asserted, being one to stand up for my friends under any and all circumstanses.

  Jane snifed.

  "Twenty!" she exclaimed. "He's not eighteen yet. His very noze is imature."

  Our discourse was interupted by the object of it, who requested an opinion on the ties. He ignored Jane entirely.

  We went in, and I purchaced a handsome tie for father, considering it but right thus to show my apreciation of his giving me the Allowence.

  It was seventy five cents, and I made out a check for the amount and took the tie with me. We left Jane soon after, as she insisted on adressing Tommy as dear child, or "MON ENFANT," and strolled on together, oblivious to the World, by the World forgot. Our conversation was largely about ourselves, Tommv maintaining that I gave an impression of fridgidity, and that all the College men considered me so.

  "Better fridgidity," I retorted, "than softness. But I am sincere. I stick to my friends through thick and thin."

  Here he observed that my Chin was romantic, but that my Ears were stingy, being small and close to my head. This irratated me, although glad they are small. So I bought him a gardenia to wear from a flour-seller, but as the flour-seller refused
a check, he had to pay for it.

  In exchange he gave me his Frat pin to wear.

  "You know what that means, don't you, Bab?" he said, in a low and thriling tone. "It means, if you wear it, that you are my--well, you're my girl."

  Although thriled, I still retained my practacality.

  "Not exclusively, Tom," I said, in a firm tone. "We are both young, and know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet."

  He looked at me with a searching glanse.

  "I'll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying around, Bab," he said savigely. "You're that sort. All the fellows are sure to be crasy about you. And I don't intend to be an Also-ran."

  "Perhaps," I observed, in my most dignafied maner. "But no one has ever tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the Other Sex have always treated me with respect."

  I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on the pavment. It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start right.

  But I was troubled and DISTRAIT during dinner, which consisted of mutton and custard, which have no appeal for me owing to having them to often at school. For I had, although not telling an untruth, allowed Tom to think that I had a dozen or so Frat pins, although I had none at all.

  Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman can do when in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with Gile? In other words, to use her intellagence against brute force? I fear so.

  Men do not expect truth from us, so why disapoint them?

  During the salid mother inquired what I had done during the afternoon.

  "I made a few purchaces," I said.

  "I hope you bought some stockings and underclothes," she observed. "Hannah cannot mend your chemises any more, and as for your----"

  "Mother!" I said, turning scarlet, for George--who was the Butler, as Tanney had been found kissing Jane--was at that moment bringing in the cheeze.