Mardi Gras Madness

by Halliday, Brett;

  “Sonia said they were stepping high, wide, and handsome,” Ethel observed. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Stranger things have happened during Mardi Gras.”

  “Oh, let’s drive by and see them,” Barbara said impulsively. “I’ve been meaning to see how they got along. Maybe we can find out something about Cousin Hattie and Bob.”

  “All right. It’s right on the way home. We’re almost there now. Gee, I’d like to have seen Hattie last night.”

  “Can you imagine her?” Barbara marveled. “She’s so strict and strait-laced. How on earth do you suppose she met Mr. Simpson?”

  “That will probably always remain one of life’s minor mysteries,” Ethel responded. “I’d say the hand of God had a part in it. Here we are,” she added, making a sudden turn and stopping before a neat wooden house.

  “And there’s Boots and Buddie,” Barbara called gayly.

  The children were playing in the yard, and recognized Barbara at once. They ran toward the car as it stopped, and crowded on the running board.

  “Having a good time?” Barbara asked them.

  “Oh yes!” Boots elected herself spokesman. Her face was clean and it shone like a full moon. “On’y daddy sent us home early las’ night an’ nen didn’ come home till this mornin’,” she said accusingly.

  “My, my. Did he stay out all night?”

  “Yes, an’ he tol’ us not to tell nobody.”

  “So you’re telling everyone you see?” Barbara asked merrily.

  “Tell her ’bout the lady.” Buddie poked his sister urgently.

  “Oh yes.” Boots hastened to impart the tremendous news. “Daddy tol’ us not to min’ ’cause he found the beutiful lady las’ night what’s gonna be our new mammy. An’ she’s awful purty an’ awful nice an’ she says we kin come to Mwada Gwa every year,” Boots ended triumphantly.

  Barbara turned to look at Ethel, and they both burst into laughter.

  “Where’s your daddy now?” Ethel asked as Barbara continued to laugh helplessly.

  “He went down to get the lady,” Boots said sturdily. “An’ he’s bin gone an awful long time. He promised he’d be home befo’ night.”

  “Ooooh! Dere he comes now!” Buddie shouted mightily as a taxi turned the corner and rolled up to stop beside the other car.

  It was indeed the Widower Simpson. A rejuvenated Widower Simpson. And no longer a widower. For he proudly gave his arm to the new Mrs. Simpson as he alighted from the cab.

  Barbara and Ethel both stared in silent consternation as Boots and Buddie flung themselves upon their father and their new mother.

  Hattie did not see the two girls in the automobile. She was on her knees, gathering the two children to her starved bosom.

  It was Hattie, though Barbara felt she might not have recognized her had she not been prepared to see her. Her features were actually soft as she bent over the two children. Her spare form did not seem ungainly in the gathering twilight.

  Barbara touched Ethel lightly on the arm as they stared at the strangely moving scene.

  “Drive on,” she said huskily. “Let’s not bother them now. Mardi Gras has been … good to all of them.”

  She wiped away a tear as Ethel drove smoothly away. She looked back at the group and saw them mistily. It seemed to her that she glimpsed something of the power of Mardi Gras. Something of the spirit of the festival which has kept it alive for more than a century. Mardi Gras had wrought its wonder upon those four. They were encompassed in peace and certitude as the festival ended.

  Barbara prayed blindly that she might find that same peace and certitude before the chimes tolled at midnight. For it was brought to her that Mardi Gras is essentially a spiritual cleansing; a release from the bonds of fleshly pleasure; that in giving way for a brief period to the unrestrained enjoyment of worldly lusts the soul is made ready for the greater peace of spiritual understanding.

  To-night … she and Bob must seek that greater understanding together.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Tell me about the dance to-night,” Barbara said eagerly. They had finished dinner and were dressing for the ball. Barbara was in Ethel’s room, and both were clad only in sheer underthings as they completed their toilets.

  “It’s an annual affair,” Ethel told her, frowning as she applied a final sheen to her nails with a buffer. “About five hundred are usually invited. Next to the Rex and Comus balls it’s considered the high spot of Mardi Gras. Brierly Manor is one of the show places of the city. A huge old Colonial house set in a beautiful grove of trees.”

  “Will everyone be masked?” Barbara was carefully rouging her lips before the mirror.

  “Oh yes. Masked and costumed. They have prizes for the prettiest costume, and for the most fantastic. I went last year and it was the most gorgeous affair I ever saw. Much prettier and nicer than the Rex ball … I think. The setting and decorations are so wonderful.”

  “Tell me about it.” Barbara’s eyes were shining as she turned away from the mirror.

  “There’s one huge ballroom inside. And they have two dancing pavilions out under the trees. It’s like fairyland: Myriad strings of colored lights swaying from the branches, beautiful formal gardens, rustic nooks, and dark corners, and shadows.…” Ethel spoke ecstatically. Her eyes held memories of the ball a year previously.

  That was where she had met Frank. There had been a rustic nook … and shadows.

  “It sounds … intriguing.” Barbara spoke hopefully.

  “Intriguing? Wait until you see it. But tell me all about this afternoon. You haven’t spilled a word about what you and Frank did. And when did you see Sonia? Exactly what did she tell you?”

  “Frank and I spent a quiet afternoon at home,” Barbara said demurely.

  “At whose home?” Ethel interjected.

  “At. Frank’s. We had lunch … and talked.”

  “Yes, yes,” Ethel murmured. “Go on. You didn’t talk all afternoon.”

  “No,” Barbara admitted with a rush of color, “we didn’t.”

  “Ah.” Ethel looked at her keenly.

  “Oh, I don’t know how to tell you,” Barbara said. “But somehow, my experience with Frank opened my eyes. It was … as though I had been looking at a mirage and suddenly encountered reality.”

  “And what did you … see?”

  “I saw that I love Bob. That I’ve always loved him. And I saw how splendid and wonderful our love will be now that we’ve both learned how much more there is to it than we knew.”

  “What did Frank think about the result of your … experiment?” Ethel kept her tone light for she saw Barbara was deadly serious.

  “Oh, he understood,” Barbara cried with shining eyes. “I think that’s the most wonderful part of it. He drove me to Sonia’s so I could tell her about Bob and ask her for a chance to win him back to-night.”

  “Hmmm. How did Sonia take that?”

  “She was awfully nice. I … I was afraid of her at first. She … looked so strange. But she understood.”

  “And she offered to turn Bob back to you as soon as she’s through with him? Very magnanimous of her.” Ethel’s voice was tinged with scorn.

  “But she … she promised to send him away from her to-night,” Barbara protested. “She won’t have a chance to see him again before the dance. I think it was wonderful of her.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s what you think,” Ethel muttered. Her thoughts went back to the scene in the cottage as she had torn away from it this afternoon, and she shivered with sudden revulsion.

  “What did you say?” Barbara asked.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. Tell me what you intend to do to-night.” Ethel changed the subject hastily lest she give away the secret of Bob’s presence at Sonia’s.

  “Well I … I’m going to be masked,” Barbara said slowly. “I’ll wear a full mask so there won’t be any chance of Bob recognizing me. And he won’t be expecting me either. Sonia promised to disappear and leave him with me.”

&
nbsp; “What’s your cue? You going to try and seduce him?” Ethel asked brutally.

  Barbara’s cheeks flamed scarlet, but she met Ethel’s gaze bravely. “If you want to … call it that. Yes. I want him to know what I offer him. I want him to know what our love can mean to us with sex to bring us together wholly. I want to show him that I can bring him so much more than Sonia. I want him to learn the lesson I learned from Frank this afternoon.”

  “I understand,” Ethel said quietly. “You’re not going to tell him who you really are until he’s succumbed to your voluptuous spell?”

  “No,” Barbara said faintly. “That’s the only way I can see,” she cried desperately. “Frank said it sounded like a crazy motion picture plot, but I don’t see any other way. I’m afraid Bob wouldn’t go with me if he knew who I was. He’d be on his guard … holding himself back as he’s always done in the past. I want us to come together gloriously. I want passion to flame between us so that it burns away the repressions we’ve built up together.” Her face was radiant and she flung out her arms in a wide gesture on the last words.

  “I understand,” Ethel said unsteadily. She arose quickly and turned to her closet. She would have given her very soul to stand in Barbara’s place. To face the opportunity she faced this night. But she felt no envy. Only sympathy and understanding.

  “Here.” She turned back into the room, holding a hanger from which trailed a beautiful evening gown of lustrous satin. Shimmering old rose, cut extremely décolleté, designed to mold itself revealingly about the curves of the wearer.

  “Suppose you go as the French courtesan, Du Barry? That will be quite appropriate,” she said smilingly. “And this is really an exquisite costume. I wore it to the Rex ball two years ago.”

  “Oh, it’s marvelous, Ethel.” Barbara moved to finger the gorgeous material wistfully. “But I couldn’t wear anything like that,” she protested weakly. “I’d feel absolutely nude. Why, it hasn’t any back at all.”

  “So much the better,” Ethel laughed. “You have a swell back of your own. Why hide it? Believe me, this is made to show off everything you’ve got. Here, slip it on.”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t,” Barbara protested weakly. “I might ruin it.”

  “You’ll ruin its reputation if you don’t get your man with its assistance,” Ethel said grimly. “There.” She slid the garment over Barbara’s smooth shoulders and turned her toward the mirror.

  “Look at yourself,” she commanded. “Gee, you’ve got a figure,” she commented enviously. “It’ll have to be taken up here at the shoulders. And that’s everything that needs to be done. It fits you like a charm.”

  Barbara gazed at her reflection with quickened breath. The gown was cut so low in the front that the material barely rose to the point of decency. Cunningly beaded arcs below served to draw the shimmering stuff in to reveal the luscious fullness of her youthful figure. The waist and hips were tight, and the material fell about her limbs to outline every feminine charm.

  “Oh, it’s lovely,” she exclaimed. “But I … I don’t think I dare. I’d feel so strange. I never wore anything like this in my life. And everybody will be strange and new. I’ll feel as though every eye is on me if I wear this.”

  “Every masculine eye will be cocked in your direction,” Ethel promised her tranquilly. “And there’ll be a certain gleam in the depths of each that will bid you beware. Don’t let any of them entice you into a dark corner unless you’re willing to be raped.”

  “Ethel!”

  “I mean it,” Ethel assured her. “The Comtesse Du Barry would meet some stiff competition if she attended the ball tonight. Believe me, a gown like this is the answer to the riddle of why men leave home. Too bad you have to wear a full mask … a domino would be much more intriguing … but, after all, very few of the men will pay the slightest heed to your face.”

  “It makes me feel … funny,” Barbara confessed. “I’m almost ashamed to look at myself in the mirror. Why, if it should slip down just a tiny bit here,” she touched her breast lightly, “I’d be all exposed.”

  “So much the better,” Ethel replied with a laugh. “That’s an idea. If the boy friend doesn’t seem to fall in line promptly I’ll slip around and give the front a tug. Then he won’t even have to use any of his imagination.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Barbara protested in a shocked tone.

  “Why not?” Ethel shrugged elaborately. “You’re hunting big game to-night, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You’re going there deliberately to try and drag him away from Sonia’s spell. Use every weapon nature’s given you. No half measures to-night. There’ll be plenty more just as brazenly exposed as you. The only difference is that you’ve got what it takes to get away with a gown like that.”

  “If you really think it’s all right.…” Barbara began weakly.

  “Of course it’s all right. The matter’s settled. You let me do up your hair. And put about three times as much rouge on your lips.”

  “All right.” Barbara found that she turned away from the mirror regretfully. She felt wicked and dashing in the gown. Brazen and shameless. Her spirits whirled upward to dizzy heights.

  She was another person. Certainly Bob would not recognize her. The outward change was complemented by an inward transition. The Comtesse Du Barry! To-night she would rival the wickedest courtesan of France. To-night a new Barbara would emerge. Impetuous, daring, challenging.

  She felt recklessly gay. To-night she could not fail. She spun recklessly to face Ethel.

  “Do your damnedest,” she said gayly. “This is my night.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “I’ll have to stay well in the background to-night,” Ethel mused. “If Bob saw me it might start him thinking about you and looking for you. Though I don’t think there’s a chance in the world of him recognizing you in that outfit.” It was later in the evening and they were driving swiftly toward Brierly Manor.

  “I feel so thrilled and funny,” Barbara exclaimed. Her eyes peered out from the slits in the full mask and were full of dancing lights. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I meet Bob. I feel as though I might explode when he looks at me.”

  “Don’t lose your head,” Ethel cautioned. “Remember this is your night and you’re on masquerade. Don’t forget to change your voice as much as you can … and say just as little as possible. The quiet and demure pose is always intriguing.”

  “Yes, I know.” Barbara laughed gayly. “How’s this?” She spoke throatily, in tones totally unlike her natural voice: “You’re doin’ things to my heart, big boy. How’s for steppin’ into the garden where we can cut loose?”

  “Fine,” Ethel applauded. “He’ll never know you in a thousand years if you can remember to talk like that. Gee, I’m all thrilled myself to watch how it turns out.” She sighed wistfully and stepped on the accelerator.

  “We’re almost there,” she muttered. “And just late enough to make an imposing entrance.”

  “Is that it?” Barbara asked eagerly, pointing ahead to a subdued glow showing through a grove of trees.

  “That’s it,” Ethel said complacently. “Keep a tight hold on everything, and remember you’re the Comtesse Du Barry tonight.”

  She swerved the heavy car between stone pillars which flanked a concrete driveway. The subdued glow became a blaze of light. Large globes at the top of high poles illuminated a parking area nearly filled with massed automobiles.

  Beyond, the mansion was a blaze of light. A uniformed attendant guided them to a parking place and helped them to alight. Soft strains of music came from the house and beyond. Muted laughter and the murmur of voices.

  Barbara clutched desperately at Ethel’s arm as they passed up the walk together. For an instant she was desperately afraid. She felt an intruder, a fraud. Certainly they would find her out. A country girl daring to masquerade as the Comtesse Du Barry! It was absurd.

  But Ethel pushed her away with mock viciousness. “Go it alone,” she said between her tee
th. “You have your invitation in your bag. I’ll hang around outside until you conquer the receiving line. Strut your stuff and hold your head up.” She thrust her forward to climb the steps of the wide veranda alone.

  Barbara drew on some hidden strength to move up the stairs and across the porch to the masked group in the doorway. She held her beaded bag fiercely and searched for the engraved invitation with nerveless fingers. A statuesque lady greeted her first. She wore a domino and a pleasant smile. That was all Barbara saw. She pushed the invitation toward her helplessly, and the lady passed it to a robust gentleman without a glance.

  Barbara hesitated in the doorway as the statuesque lady took her hand warmly. She had a confused impression of a huge room crowded with people in fantastic regalia who paid her no heed.

  Then the robust gentleman announced her in stentorian tones:

  “The Comtesse Du Barry!” reading from the invitation where Ethel had scrawled the words.

  It seemed to Barbara that every tongue in the crowded room was silenced, and that every eye was upon her. Through opened doors she could see the ballroom beyond. The strains of the orchestra came to her, and she could see couples moving to the slow rhythm of the waltz.

  Bob would be there … and Sonia!

  She started forward impulsively. She shook hands with strangers and murmured meaningless words in response to meaningless words as she moved down the receiving line toward the wide doors of the ballroom. She heard admiring comments, but paid them no heed. There was room for only one thought in her mind. One hope. One overwhelming necessity.

  She must find Bob. The faces about her faded into an indistinguishable blur. Her lips moved mechanically behind the mask, and her eyes smiled impartially at all.

  Then she was standing on the threshold of the ballroom. It was a blaze of light and of vivid color. A row of stags stood against the wall. The entire row surged toward her as one man. An emaciated person in a devil’s costume outstripped the others. His arm was about her and swung her toward the polished dance floor.