CHAPTER III
The guests made desperate efforts to pretend that they were unaware topretend that they were unaware of the feud and at the same time tofollow it. They were polite enough even to try to ignore the salt thewrathful Asaph had let slip into the ice-cream.
In the cheerful stampede for the dining-room Debby had crowded into asofa alongside another re-visitor to the town, Newton Meldrum, whom shehad known but slightly. He had gone with the older girls and hadalready left Carthage when Debby came out-as far as she ever came outbefore she went back.
Newt Meldrum had prospered, according to Carthage standards. He was nowthe "credit man" for a New York wholesale house. Debby had not thefaintest idea what a credit man was. But Asaph knew all too well. Asthe owner of the largest department store in Carthage, Asaph owed theNew York house more money than he could pay. He gave that as a reasonfor owing it still more. The New York house sent Meldrum out toCarthage to see whether it would be more profitable to close Asaph up ortide him over another season.
Asaph's wife chose this anxious moment to give a party to Birdaline!Asaph protested violently that it would make a bad impression on Meldrumto be seen giving parties when he could not pay his bills. But Josiewas running a little social business of her own, and not to entertainBirdaline would be to go into voluntary bankruptcy. She could still getthe necessary things charged-and to Josie getting a thing charged wasjust a little cheaper than getting it for nothing. It didn't put youunder obligations, like accepting gifts. Asaph forbade her to give theparty, but of course she gave it, anyway, and he was not brave enough toforbid the grocer to honor her requisitions.
Asaph had to invite Meldrum, and Josie announced that she would show howmuch a wife can help her husband; she promised to lavish on Meldrumespecial consideration and to introduce him to some pretty girls (he wasa notorious bachelor).
She forgot him at once for her ancient rivalry with Birdaline. And nowAsaph forgot him in the excitement of quarrel.
Indeed, host and hostess ignored their fatal guest so completely thatthey left him to eat his supper alongside the least-considered woman intown-poor old "Dubby Debby."
Debby had long ago fallen out of the practice of expecting attentionfrom anybody. To-night she was so grievously wounded that she forgother custom of squandering the consideration she rarely got back. Shesaid nothing to her elbow neighbor, but sat pondering her own shame andtrying to extract some ice-cream from between the spots of salt. A fewbig tears had welled to her eyelids and dropped into her dish. Sheblamed herself for the salt. Then she heard her neighbor grumble:
"Say, Debby, is your ice-cream all salty?"
"Ye-es, it is," she murmured, fluttering.
"So's mine. Funny thing, there's always salt in the ice-cream. Evernoticed it?"
"Tha-that's so; there usually is-a little."
"A lot! That's life, I guess. Poor old Asaph! Plenty of salt in hisice-cream, eh? What's the matter with that wife of his, anyway? Aren'tthey happy together?"
"Oh, I guess they're as happy as married folks ever are," Debbyanswered, absently, and then gasped at the horrible philosophy she haduttered.
Meldrum threw her a glance and laughed.
Debby winced. He probably was saying to himself, "Sour grapes!" Atleast she thought he would think that. But she had not meant to befoxy. The fox in the fable had tried to leap to the grapes before hemaligned them. Debby had hardly come near enough to them or made effortenough toward them to say that she had failed.
But Meldrum had not thought, "Sour grapes!" He only remembered that"Debby" was "Debby." In these returns to childhood circles one rarelyknows what has happened between then and now. He remembered Debby as anugly little brat of a girl, and he saw that she was still homely. Butplenty of homely women were married. He proved his ignorance by hisnext words:
"You married, Debby?"
"N-no," she faltered, without daring even to venture a "not yet." Hesurprised her shame with a laughing compliment:
"Wise lady! Neither am I. Shake!"
Then she turned on the sofa so that she could see him better. His eyeswere twinkling. He was handsome, citified, sleek, comfortable. Yet hehad never married!
He was holding out his hand. And because it commanded hers she put hersin it, and he squeezed her long, fishy fin in a big, warm, comfortablepalm. And she gave her timid, smiling eyes into his big, smiling stareand wondered why she smiled. But she liked it so much that fresh tearsrushed to her eyelids-little eager, happy tears that could not have hadmuch salt in them, for one or two of them bounced into her ice-cream.Yet it did not taste bitter now.
The Last Rose of Summer Page 3
