It was very difficult. It was almost impossible. She didn’t know how to begin. She had to just blunder, slam bang, into the warning. There wouldn’t be much time. In the background of her mind there persisted the thought that she mustn’t worry his father. So she must hurry.
She said, “Mr. Garrison, someone tried to poison you Sunday night. There was poison in the chocolate in your room. Your stepmother knocked it over.” She stopped for breath.
He said levelly, “What the devil are you talking about?”
“You see, I got some on my handkerchief. I had it analyzed.”
“You what?”
“It was full of some sleeping dope,” she said. “It would have been dangerous.”
“Are you absolutely mad?”
“No.”
“You had it analyzed!” He didn’t believe it. His face showed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I—” Mandy stuck and pushed over a barrier—“saw her knock it over on purpose.”
“Who?”
“Ione.”
“Ione!”
“She—” Mandy stopped. “I saw her in the window glass,” she said weakly. “Just—be careful.”
“You’re prepared to prove all this, I suppose,” he said rather bleakly, in a moment.
“I— The handkerchief got burned up by mistake, but—”
“I see. I’m to take your word for it.” His face hardened. “I had begun to think you were making sense,” he told her crisply, “but I see your mind runs to melodrama. I think you’d better leave as soon as you politely can.”
Mandy said, “Very well.”
“I warned you the other night. You are not to worry my father.”
“I haven’t—”
“But you will,” he said. “You’re bound to.” His lip curled. She saw, now, how angry he was. But he said, almost patiently, “You can’t just walk into people’s houses and stir up their lives, you know, to suit your appetite for a sensation.”
“I’m sorry you don’t believe me.”
He ignored this. “My father is not a man who thrives on this sort of thing. Alarms and suspicions. He has been very kind and more than polite to you.” His patient explanatory tone was unbearably insulting. “But he must have peace and I don’t propose to let you attach yourself and your kind of imagination to his household.”
“But it’s true!” she cried. “It’s true about the poison!”
He ignored it. “I believe you wanted my father to look at your work. He has looked at it. I think that’s as far as you go.”
Mandy was too furious to be meek any longer. “I think that’s quite as far as I want to go,” she blazed at him.
He seemed to have heard something elsewhere in the house. He held up his hand. He looked at her warily, without anger, with worse. “Don’t make a scene,” he said coldly.
Mandy drew herself up in tight control. “At least I’ve warned you,” she said in a low voice. She turned to her pictures, her whole air that of departure.
He said, close behind her, “Excuse me if I sound stern. But you are rather a fantastic character, you know.” He didn’t sound angry at all, but as if he’d put her down as a type in his mind and was rather sorry for her. “I doubt whether you’re even the wrong child, as you put it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d dreamed yourself into that story. I’ll bet you did, didn’t you? Where did you hear it?”
She turned to face him, to protest.
Ione was in the archway. “Hello, there.” She stepped briskly down. “How are you, my dear? Have you been here long? Have you had tea?” She loosened her black coat. Thone sprang to take it from her. “Thank you, dear. Thone, will you tell Elsie? Tea. Toby’s on the phone?” She looked from one to the other and said cheerily, “You haven’t been quarreling, children?”
“Oh, no,” said Mandy with a stiff smile. “I was just about to go.”
“Don’t go. Toby will be in. He will be hurt if you run away. We must have tea, of course.” Ione sat down and crossed her neat plump ankles. “I’ve been to see your mother,” she said placidly. “That is, I was in her office this morning.”
Thone, with her coat in his hands, turned suddenly back.
Mandy said, aghast, “You were!”
“Your real mother,” said Ione, nodding pleasantly. “We had such a pleasant chat. A lovely person.”
“It’s the same woman?” asked Thone. “She was in that hospital?”
Ione said, “Oh, yes. But, my dear,” she turned a pitying smile on Mandy, “how could you have imagined any such nonsense? Your mother hasn’t the slightest doubt. The circumstances were quite clear, she says. There is no ground for error, really. Could you have misunderstood her, Amanda?”
Thone said grimly, “Amanda has quite an active imagination.”
“So Mrs. Garth implied,” said Ione, nodding. “And the child has been quite intense about painting. Mrs. Garth thinks that’s the root of it. And perhaps it is.” She spoke as if Amanda weren’t there in the room at all.
Thone made a skeptical sound.
“You must remember,” said Ione serenely, “that Toby is, after all, rather a glamorous figure. To a young artist, especially.” She tilted her head. “Also, there are his scholarships. Oh, it’s understandable.” She beamed in her jolly way. “But, of course, we must have no more of it.”
“I agree to that,” Thone said quietly. “In fact, I’ve just said so.” He went away with the coat.
Ione took off her white ruffled hat and set it beside her. Pink fingers touched her coiffure. “Your mother tells me that you have been well brought up. And I’m sure of that, my dear. I’m sure you won’t come again if I find it best to suggest …” Her shoulders trembled in a little shrug. Her dark eyes were calm.
Mandy’s heart pumped in slow surges. Her throat felt dry. After this, she could not come, ever again. They were cutting her out, both of them. Thone, perhaps, could be defied, but not the mistress of the house. It was perfectly clear and perfectly final. And humiliating beyond anything she had ever known. She would simply have to go.
But Thone hadn’t believed her! Not a word she’d said! Would he be careful? Could she go and never come back and writhe every night in the silent hours, or sit up, heart drained with that wave of fear, sick with it, and helpless? Could she take her hurt feelings now and go home, muttering that her duty was done in the matter? And never blame herself?
No. She had botched it. So she was not excused.
Nor was he even temporarily safe, not now. Not after Kate had made it so plain, and removed from Ione any confusion whatsoever.
What if she accused Ione straight out? It couldn’t be done. She had nothing to go on. They wouldn’t believe it. Why should they believe it?
She looked at Ione, so smug and sure, so much in control, so firm, such a little—what? Mandy’s breathing came unevenly. Did she even believe it herself?
Tobias came in with Thone. He had heard no rumbles of wrath. He was, as he had been, Amanda’s friend. Her very old friend and now her new friend, as well.
He showed Ione her pictures. Ione had little to say, but she listened cheerfully, as they all listened to his talk about them. Elsie brought tea. It was, for the artist, a pleasant afternoon that would end pleasantly. For Amanda it would end, indeed.
He was saying, “You seem to care about space and depth. But here, d’ya see? You have not placed the figure. The table is in space and the things on it, to a degree. But not the woman’s head. See … here … that’s a mere frame. What’s there?”
Amanda followed his stabbing finger. Puzzled, she began to draw her brows together. Then almost without volition, so directly did the impulse pass into act, she did something different. She closed her eyes, she dropped her head, she put her palms along her cheeks, with finger tips at her temples. Unseeing, she listened to the silence and her heart surging. She kept remembering how Fanny had done it. She summoned her powers, dropped her hands, lift
ed her face, opened her smiling eyes, all in that smooth and vividly remembered rhythm. She said, as Belle used to say, “I see!”
She did see … a little trailing uneasiness cross the artist’s face. She could feel the freezing of Thone’s body, the deepening immobility of his attention.
So she drew up her knees and clasped her hands around them, then crossed her ankles and balanced, back straight.… “Tell me what else.” She heard Thone mutter something, felt him lean forward. Tobias Garrison’s hand trembled. That fine hand, retreating from the pointing gesture … surely it trembled a little. Even Ione’s mouth—did it go slack? She hung onto the pose. Fanny had done this. She copied a copy. Maybe it was good enough.
Tobias sank back in the chair. Amanda turned to look and saw that Thone’s eyes were very bright and rather startled. She unlocked her hands and stood up, trying to be all grace. She turned her foot.… She said, contritely, “I’ve taken too much time. I’ve tired you. You’ve been wonderful, Mr. Garrison. But I’d better go now.”
“Don’t—don’t go, child,” Tobias said. “For just a moment you looked—you seemed—I had a flash. Thone?”
“Yes,” said Thone, very quietly, and it was exactly as if he went to stand behind his father, to put his shoulder at his father’s back. “I saw what you meant, Dad.”
“Saw what?” said Ione rather irritably.
“So—like Belle,” said Tobias gently. “Something … just then.”
“But that’s not possible!” said Ione, deep in her throat.
Mandy agreed. “Oh, no, really. How could I be anything like that lovely creature?” She sounded rather breathless, as if she protested just a little too much. “I must say good-by. And thank you. I won’t see you again.”
“Why not?” said Tobias in surprise. “Of course you’ll come again.”
Amanda shook her head. Real tears came to her eyes and surprised her.
“My dear,” said Tobias very earnestly, “I would like very much to see you at work. I know, even now, some tricks you should be told. I could, perhaps, guide you the way you’re going. Why do you say you won’t come back?” He was standing, now, very close to her. He liked her very much indeed. His interest was real. He wanted to help her. And Mandy responded. She wanted this, too. It wasn’t a part of the other business. It was between them and it was real.
She said, reluctantly, showing the pain it was to withdraw, “You’ve been so kind. But I couldn’t possibly ask you to bother any more.”
“Why not?” said Tobias. He took hold of her shoulders and looked into her face. “See here, Amanda Garth, in the name of what we can’t help thinking—for after all, you ‘might have been’—you mustn’t be shy with me. Must she, Thone?” It was as if he sensed that she’d had a rebuff from that quarter and turned to pin it down.
Thone said lightly, “If you want her, Dad, you sell her. Use your charm.” He grinned at Tobias. He sent no messages to Mandy. He was, she felt, being very cautious.
Amanda said, “I haven’t been shy at all, sir. I’ve been just the opposite. I want to confess and beg your pardon for the—” her lips quivered—“wild imagining I’ve done. I hadn’t any right to. Mother was clear about it. It’s as you say—I couldn’t help thinking. And if you want to imagine something, of course, you always can.” Smiling, he let her go.
“I’m so c-clever at it,” she said. “I even told myself my father would have spared my mother. He wouldn’t have wanted her to be uncertain. You see how wacky …?” Mandy let her face break into a tearful smile. She tipped up her chin. Her head went back. There was no sound to her laughter.
She heard Thone’s breath whistle as he drew it in. She let go the laughter and looked as innocently as she could at all their faces. Tobias’ was fond. It wore a gentle radiance that was in some part sadness, yet not all.
He said, “Ah, but John Garth was just the man who would have spared her any doubt, had there been doubt. So it’s not quite wacky, Amanda.” He patted her shoulder.
Thone’s face was a mask.
“I think I shall claim you both,” Tobias said. “Please promise you’ll come again.”
Ione’s dark eyes, turned upward, were wide. Then the muscles around them tugged and narrowed them the merest trifle. She said, parting her lips first, as if to smile, “My dear, by all means. Come again. You will, won’t you?” Amanda looked straight at her. “Please promise,” said Ione.
“I’d like to very much,” said Mandy with a rush of relief. She thought to herself, Did it! Did it! I’ve confused her! She was filled with momentary triumph. Her feet took little dancing steps and she collected her belongings. She said rather jauntily to Thone, “Are you going back East soon?” It was in her mind to let him guess that her pretenses were temporary, to excuse herself, to explain. It was in her mind, but she knew at once it wasn’t working. He guessed nothing of the kind. He hadn’t believed a word she’d said. He didn’t know what she was up to. There was no way he could understand. And his face was stony.
Tobias, for some reason, was quite gay. “Yes, so he intends, Amanda, and all the more reason why I should have some young life in the house. You must plan to come and stay over a day or two. You and I have studying to do. Tell her, Ione.”
Ione said, “But of course, Amanda,” in a singing tone.
“I may not go,” said Thone uneasily.
His father looked surprised. Then he said happily, “My dear boy, wonderful! So much the better!”
CHAPTER 9.
WHEN AMANDA HAD GONE, TOBIAS came back into the studio with a little smile still on his lips.
Ione had withdrawn, as if she crept into a deep corner of her chair. She sat still and she did not speak. Tobias put a warm hand on Thone’s shoulder. It said to Thone, “My son.” Thone looked up quickly. “I’m not worried about that,” his face said. “Never think it.”
All this the woman could not read.
Tobias said aloud, “That’s a darling girl.”
“Damnedest thing,” said Thone. He got out of his chair and took a pace or two. “You realize, Dad, that kind of mannerism can’t be inherited.” Tobias shrugged. “Not that I ever heard,” muttered Thone. “Science would be astonished. Darn funny thing! Matter of fact, it’s uncanny. Look here, Dad, you don’t suppose we really were changed around, swapped in the cradle, hm?” His eyes weren’t worried. They were amused.
“I never thought so,” said Tobias mildly.
“I hope you checked.”
“I’m no logician, no worker-out of puzzles, no sorter of evidence and drawer of conclusions therefrom,” said Tobias half humorously. “But this Garth, the father, he was, you see.”
“He settled it?”
“Seemed clear as crystal at the time.” Tobias went and stood looking off toward the mountains. “Nice fellow, Garth. Very clear in the head.” His voice was indulgent.
Thone’s mouth twisted. “Science is a wonderful thing, all the same,” he murmured. There were overtones in their talk. Ione had no ear for them.
Tobias jingled coins in his pocket. “Interesting girl,” he said dreamily. “How she happens to … remind us of Belle, we’ll never know. But that doesn’t disturb me. I know you’re afraid it will. Don’t be afraid. I like her, damn it!”
“You’ve got a right,” said Thone, quickly and generously. He took a pace or two, frowning. “Beats me. Wasn’t an illusion, if we both got it.”
Tobias said dreamily, “That’s a lovely face. Mouth. Notice the mouth?”
“Um, yes,” said Thone, “I noticed the mouth.”
“I’d like to paint it,” the artist said. Thone’s eyes glinted, perhaps with humor.
The woman got no overtones. She sat, smoldering. Her small rosy fingers drew on the chair arm a slow design.
She said suddenly, aloud, “The week-end?”
“Eh?”
“I was thinking,” she said, “it would be nice to have her over the week-end.” She laced her fingers. “There are people coming in
, Saturday. A little party. So nice for Amanda. Besides, she must come before Thone has to leave us.”
“Ask her,” Tobias murmured.
She nodded and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I shall call this evening. Such an interesting girl, as you say, Toby. We must see more of her.” She rolled her thumbs against each other. “And I do believe the child said it was her vacation? It should work out very well.”
“She may have other plans for her vacation.” Thone’s voice was empty of expression.
Ione’s hands parted in a brushing gesture. She wiggled herself out of the chair. “Toby, dear,” she cried, “I shall ask her for a week, at least. Oh, yes, I think so. If you have studying to do,” she went on firmly, smilingly, insistently, “a day or two is not enough to learn much, is it?”
“True. True.” Tobias smiled, jingling the coins.
Thone sat down and opened a magazine and put his gaze on it.
“Thone! You lamb! Come in. And me not in my best complexion yet. Why didn’t you warn me to make myself beautiful?”
“’Tain’t ever necessary, Fanny darling.” He kissed her.
“Blarney. Blarney. Come and sit. Talk to me.” Fanny bustled him into a chair. “I have to go to work this afternoon. What a pity! You and I might have gone to the zoo or something. Is there anything wrong?”
“How quick you are!” said Thone admiringly. “No sooner is my foot in the door than you see all, know all.”
She brought him cigarettes and matches. “It’s that girl, I’ll bet. That Amanda girl.”
“I said you knew.” His face was too somber to suit her. Fanny sat down on her sofa, her back beautifully straight.
“Fanny, darling,” said he, “I can’t understand this Amanda. Can you? She’s the strangest combination. One minute, I think this is a fine, intelligent, sensitive—”
“So it is,” said Fanny.
“What?”
“She was here, day before yesterday. We talked.”
“Ah,” said Thone.
“Go on.”
“Where were we?”
“Fine, intelligent …”
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