Part 34 (1/2)

”It is truly wonderful, d.i.c.ky,” I returned, trying to make my voice enthusiastic.

I could have raved over the room, for I did think it exquisitely beautiful, had not my woman's intuition detected that another hand than d.i.c.ky's had helped in its preparation.

Only a woman's cunning fingers could have fas.h.i.+oned the curtains and the cus.h.i.+ons I saw in profusion about the room. I knew her ident.i.ty before d.i.c.ky, after pointing out in detail every article of which he was so proud, said hesitatingly:

”I wish, Madge, you would telephone Miss Draper and ask her to run over tomorrow and see the room. You see, I was so anxious to surprise you that I did not want to have you do any of the work, and she kindly did all of this needlework for me. I know she is very curious to see how her work looks.”

”Of course, I will telephone Miss Draper if you wish it, d.i.c.ky, but don't you think you ought to do it yourself? She is your employee, not mine, and I never have seen her but twice in my life.”

I flatter myself that my voice was as calm as if I had not the slightest emotional interest in the topic I was discussing. But in reality I was furiously angry. And I felt that I had reason to be.

”Now, that's a nice, catty thing to say!” d.i.c.ky exploded wrathfully.

”Hope you feel better, now you've got it off your chest. And you can just trot right along and telephone her yourself. Gee! you haven't been a martyr for months, have you?”

When d.i.c.ky takes that cutting, ironical tone, it fairly maddens me. I could not trust myself to speak, so I turned quickly and went out of the room which had become suddenly hateful to me, and found refuge in my own.

My exit was not so swift, however, but that I overheard words of my mother-in-law's, which were to remain in my mind.

”Richard,” she exclaimed angrily, ”you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You act like a silly fool over this model of yours. What business did you have asking her to do this needlework for you in the first place? You ought to have known Margaret would not like it.”

I did not hear d.i.c.ky's reply, for I had reached my own room, and, closing and locking the door, I sat down by the window until I should be able to control my words and actions.

For one thing I had determined. I would not have a repet.i.tion of the scenes which d.i.c.ky's temper and my own sensitiveness had made of almost daily occurrence in the earlier months of our marriage. I could not bring myself to treat Grace Draper with the friendliness which d.i.c.ky appeared to wish from me, but at least I could keep from unseemly squabbling about her.

But my heart was heavy with misgiving concerning this friends.h.i.+p of d.i.c.ky's for his beautiful model, as I opened my door and went down the hall to d.i.c.ky's room. My mother-in-law's voice interrupted me.

”Come in here a minute,” she said abruptly, as she trailed her flowing negligee past me into the living room.

As I followed her in, wondering, she closed the door behind her. I saw with amazement that her face was pale, her lips quivering with emotion.

”Child,” she said, laying her hand with unwonted gentleness on my shoulder. ”I want you to know that I entirely disapprove of this invitation which Richard has asked you to extend. Of course, you must use your own judgment in the matter, and it may be wise for you to do as he asks. But I want to be sure that you are not influenced by anything I may have said in the past about not opposing Richard in his whims.

”He is going too far in this thing,” she went on. ”I cannot counsel you. Each woman has to solve these problems for herself. But it may help you to know that I went through all this before you were born.”

She turned swiftly and went up to her room again.

d.i.c.ky's father! She must mean her life with him! In a sudden, swift, pitying gleam of comprehension, I saw why my mother-in-law was so crabbed and disagreeable. Life had embittered her. I wondered miserably if my life with her son would leave similar marks upon my own soul.

XXIV

A SUMMER OF HAPPINESS THAT ENDS IN FEAR

I do not believe I shall ever know greater happiness than was mine in the weeks following Grace Draper's first visit to our Marvin home.

Many times I looked back to that night when I had lain sobbing on my bed, fighting the demon of jealousy and gasped in amazement at my own folly.

That evening had ended in d.i.c.ky's arms on our moonlight veranda, and ever since he had been the royal lover of the honeymoon days, which had preceded our first quarrel. I wondered vaguely sometimes if he had guessed the wild grief and jealousy which had consumed me on that night, but if he had any inkling of it he made no sign.