Part 31 (1/2)
”I tell you I can't stand this any longer,” he said one particularly warm evening in April, as he sank into a chair, flinging his collar in one direction and his necktie in another. ”I'd rather be in the city in August than in these first warm days of spring. What do you say to moving into the country for the summer? Our month is up here the first, anyway, and I am perfectly willing to lose any part of the month's rent if we only can get away.”
”But, d.i.c.ky,” I protested, ”unless we board, which I don't think any of us would like to do, how are we going to find a house, to say nothing of getting settled in so short a time?”
To my surprise, d.i.c.ky hesitated a moment before answering. Then, flus.h.i.+ng, he uttered the words which brought my little castle of contentment grumbling about me and warned me that my marital problems were not yet all solved.
”Why, you see, there won't be any bother about a house. Miss Draper has found a perfectly bully place not far from her sister's home.”
”Miss Draper has found a house for us!”
I echoed d.i.c.ky's words in blank astonishment. His bit of news was so unexpected, amazement was the only feeling that came to me for a moment or two.
”Well, what's the reason for the awful astonishment?” demanded d.i.c.ky, truculently. ”You look as if a bomb had exploded in your vicinity.”
He expressed my feeling exactly. I knew that Miss Draper had become a fixture in his studio, acting as his secretary as well as his model, and pursuing her art studies under his direction. But his references to her were always so casual and indifferent that for months I had not thought of her at all. And now I found that d.i.c.ky had progressed to such a degree of intimacy with her that he not only wished to move to the village which she called home, but had allowed her to select the house in which we were to live.
I might be foolish, overwrought, but all at once I recognized in d.i.c.ky's beautiful protege a distinct menace to my marital happiness.
I knew I ought to be most guarded in my reply to my husband, but I am afraid the words of my answer were tipped with the venom of my feeling toward the girl.
”I admit I am astonished,” I replied coldly. ”You see, I did not know it was the custom in your circle for an artist's model to select a house for his wife and mother. You must give me time to adjust myself to such a bizarre state of things.”
I was so furious myself that I did not realize how much my answer would irritate d.i.c.ky. He sprang to his feet with an oath and turned on me the old, black angry look that I had not seen for months.
”That's about the meanest slur I ever heard,” he shouted. ”Just because a girl works as a model every other woman thinks she has the right to cast a stone at her, and put on a how-dare-you-brush-your-skirt-against-mine sort of thing. You worked for a living yourself not so very long ago. I should think you would have a little Christian charity in your heart for any other girl who worked.”
”It strikes me that there is a slight difference between the work of a high school instructor in history, a specialist in her subject, and the work of an artist's model,” I returned icily. ”But, laying all that aside, I should have considered myself guilty of a very grave breach of good taste if I had ventured to select a house for the wife of my princ.i.p.al, unasked and unknown to her.”
”Cut out the heroics, and come down to bra.s.s tacks,” d.i.c.ky snarled vulgarly. ”Why don't you be honest and say you're jealous of the poor girl? I'll bet, if the truth were known, it isn't only the house she selected you'd balk at. I'll bet you wouldn't want to go to Marvin at all for the summer, regardless that I've spent many a comfortable week in that section, and like it better than any other summer place I know.”
Through all my anger at d.i.c.ky, my disgust at his coa.r.s.eness, came the conviction that he had spoken the truth. I was jealous of Grace Draper, there was no use denying the fact to myself, however strenuously I might try to hide the thing from d.i.c.ky. I told myself that I hated Marvin because it held this girl, that instead of spending the summer there I wished I might never see the place again.
I was angrier than ever when the knowledge of my own emotion forced itself upon me, angry with myself for being so silly, angry with d.i.c.ky for having brought such provocation upon me! I let my speech lash out blindly, not caring what I said:
”You are wrong in one thing--right in another. I am not jealous of Miss Draper. To tell you the truth, I do not care enough about what you do to be jealous of you. But I would not like to live in Marvin for this season--I never counted in my list of friends a woman who possesses neither good breeding nor common sense, and I do not propose to begin with Miss Draper.”
d.i.c.ky stared at me for a moment, his face dark and distorted with pa.s.sion. Then, springing to his feet, he picked up his collar and tie and went into his room. Returning with fresh ones, he s.n.a.t.c.hed his hat and stick and rushed to the door. As he slammed it after him I heard another oath, one this time coupled with a reference to me. I sank back in the big chair weak and trembling.
”Well, you have made a mess of it!” My mother-in-law's voice, cool and cynical, sounded behind me. I felt like saying something caustic to her, but there was something in her tones that stopped me. It was not criticism of me she was expressing, rather sympathy. Accustomed as I was to every inflection of her voice, I realized this, and accordingly held my tongue until she had spoken further.
”I'll admit you've had enough to make any woman lose her control of herself,” went on d.i.c.ky's mother, with the fairness which I had found her invariably to possess in anything big, no matter how petty and fussy she was over trifles. ”But you ought to know Richard better than to take that way with him. Give Richard his head and he soon tires of any of the thousand things he proposes doing from time to time. Oppose him, ridicule him, make him angry, and he'll stick to his notion as a dog to a bone.”
She turned and walked into her own room again. I sat miserably huddled in the big chair, by turn angry at my husband and remorseful over my own hastiness.
”Vot I do about dinner, Missis Graham?” Katie's voice was subdued, sympathetic and respectful. I realized that she had heard every word of our controversy. The knowledge made my reply curt.
”Keep it warm as long as you can. I will tell you when to serve it.”
Katie stalked out, muttering something about the dinner being spoiled, but I paid no heed to her. My thoughts were too busy with conjectures and forebodings of the future to pay any attention to trifles.
The twilight deepened into darkness. I was just nerving myself to summon Katie and tell her to serve dinner when the door opened and d.i.c.ky's rapid step crossed the room. He switched on the light, and then coming over to me, lifted me bodily out of my chair.
”Was the poor little girl jealous?” he drawled, with his face pressed close to mine. ”Well, she shall never have to be jealous again. We won't live in Marvin, naughty old town, full of beautiful models.