Part 5 (2/2)
His sudden turn of the tables took the girl's breath. She colored betrayingly. She knew that she must be the picture of guilt as she stood there, her color coming and going, her heart beating like a silly tom-tom. There was even a slight unsteadiness in her voice as she evaded:
”I haven't seen Bruce Greyson since last winter,” then maddened at her own lack of poise she looked up with frank defiance. ”It's a pity that he doesn't live here. He could motor me to town.”
He flushed darkly.
”My motoring to town with Mrs. Denbigh this morning was purely accidental.”
”But--but--you will never go with me.”
”Trolley incomes should avoid limousine ladies.”
”Limousine ladies!” Jerry gripped her temper and controlled her voice.
”Pardon! My mistake,” she drawled maddeningly. ”Is--is Mrs. Denbigh divorced?”
”Not yet. What Old Nick said about Phil's mother was true. She did ruin his life. It would have been better for him and for her had he been shot to pieces, than to have him as he is now with this gnawing shame at his heart.”
”She--she was not much like your mother, was she?”
”Like Mother?” Jerry thought she had never heard anything so beautiful as that word ”Mother” as Courtlandt uttered it. He smiled up at the portrait--”Mother was--well----” he cleared the huskiness from his voice and went on, ”As I was saying about Denbigh, remorse got too much for him and a year ago he disappeared, dropped completely out of sight.”
”Why didn't Felice go with him?”
”Do you know, I fancy that Phil didn't want her.”
”Nevertheless she had married him. One doesn't take the vow 'and forsaking all others' to break it, does one?” gravely.
”I deduce from that that you do not believe in divorce?”
”Divorce! While I acknowledge that there may be situations where it is unavoidable, I hate the word. Always to me it takes on the semblance of Medusa's head in my school mythology, its snaky, hissing locks striking, stabbing, stinging, scarring indelibly. I believe in keeping covenants.”
”It's hard sometimes.”
”It is, but life isn't intended to be all joy-ride. I've found that out.”
”You mean----”
”Nothing which need make you glower at me like that,” defiantly. ”Do you know, I fancy,” with an exact imitation of his earlier voice and manner, ”that the future first families of America's 'Who's Who' will be those who can count back at least four generations of ancestors who have, in spite of disappointment and disillusion, poverty or riches, sickness or health, kept their marriage covenants. A curious idea, isn't it? It just came to me. 'A little thing but mine own,'” her tone changed from earnestness to flippancy on the last words. She syncopated a few bars of ”Papillions” as though to emphasize her indifference.
Courtlandt thrust his hands hard into the pockets of his dinner coat.
The atmosphere tingled with electricity. The girl wondered if he were throttling a desire to shake her. She hoped so. He met her eyes steadily for a moment before he turned to leave the room. Jerry took a hasty step after him.
”Wait, please--if--if----” as he kept on she added desperately, ”Steve, please.” He stopped and turned. ”If--if you should see Dad--do not mention the fact that Bruce--that Mr. Greyson's ranch is near your uncle's.”
”Why not?” relentlessly.
”Because in an attack of homesickness last winter I became engaged to him.”
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