Part 14 (1/2)
”Mrs. F., I did not come here to listen to a dissertation on the s.e.x-question nor to hold your hand while you have a fit of nerves.
You've got to pull yourself together or I'll wash my hands of the whole affair. I've come all the way from New York to help you out of a nasty, a _dirty_ sc.r.a.pe. If you wish to hear what I have to say you'll stop that silliness and act like a full-grown woman with a modic.u.m of discretion.... Your husband is apt to walk in at any moment and it may be well for all concerned that we arrive at some plan of defence.”
Her sister, who had retired to a corner of the room behind me when I sat down, now crossed to the bedside.
”Mrs. Hartley is right, Fannie--Frank is liable to show up at any minute.”
Fannie fished for her handkerchief under the pillows and sniffed tearfully while her sister arranged the pillows.
”Please pardon me, Mrs. Hartley; my nerves are all gone.”
”I have a few nerves, myself,” I thought. I found myself grasping the arms of my chair as one sometimes does at the dentist's and my teeth fairly ached from the clinching of my jaws. When Mrs. F. had folded and dropped her hands into her lap with the air of a long-suffering woman, I proceeded.
”Mr. Hartley and I have decided that you are my guest: that it was at my invitation you went to Cleveland with us and that I urged you to continue on the trip until your husband returned from his hunting trip.
On your arrival here, you contracted a heavy cold which developed into the grippe; grippe will answer as well as anything else and is not sufficiently serious to call in a physician. Are you familiar with the symptoms of the grippe?” Mrs. F. nodded.
”Very well. When you began to grow worse you telegraphed your sister.”
”But,” interjected the sister, ”that won't do; that won't hold together because Frank called me up on the telephone a few moments after he returned to Chicago and I told him I didn't know where Fannie was....” I stopped to think....
”Then we'll have to make the telegram reach you immediately _after_ he telephoned and, as he disappeared so abruptly without telling even his office force where he was going, you have an explanation for not being able to reach him.... Now, about the Cleveland week: you didn't know that your sister had gone away because you yourself were out of town. I believe that really was the case, was it not?”
”Quite true,” replied the sister. ”I was spending a few days at Wheaton.”
”Then so far, it is clear, is it not?... Mr. Hartley will take care of the article which appeared in the Club Window ... and if your husband arrives, I'll try to take care of him.... Now, ... let us think: are there any points we have overlooked?” There was a silence while each of us reviewed the situation. It was Mrs. F. who spoke first.
”Suppose--suppose Frank has set detectives on my track and they find out that you've not been to Cleveland! O, I'm sure he'll do it! It's just like Frank! You don't know what a brute he can be. O, it's all very well to say that I am to blame--that I am in the wrong, but if you had lived with Frank for eight years as I have you'd understand some things--and not treat me as if I was a ----”
”Stop that!” I felt my eyes snap with the blaze she had kindled. She snivelled and sobbed a bit, then relaxed into sullen silence.
”If your husband _has_ employed detectives we'll have to meet the contingency by standing together. In other words we'll perjure ourselves like--perfect ladies. Mr. Hartley says--and being a man he ought to know--that no man would have the courage to tell me I was not telling the truth, even if he thought so.”
”We'll never get away with it--we'll never get away with it,” wailed Mrs. F.
It was the sister who spoke next.
”And suppose Frank does not show up--suppose he doesn't come at all but waits for the detectives' report and----”
”And begins action for divorce without even saying a word about it!” It was Madame who interjected this possibility. ”Wouldn't that be just like him! Wouldn't that be Frank just down to the ground? Edith knows how cold-blooded he is, don't you, Edith? O, it's too awful! I never could live through such a thing! I wouldn't live! I'd kill myself--I'd throw myself into the lake! I'd----”
”Don't you think you are wearing that threat a little threadbare?” I asked quietly, henceforth addressing myself to the sister.
”In the event that your brother-in-law does not come or that we hear nothing from him, there is only one thing left: you must take your sister back to Chicago ... and I'll go with you....”
I believe my voice petered out before I completed the sentence. The idea was repugnant, but was it not all revolting in the extreme? I had given my promise to Will to ”see it through” and I intended to do so to the best of my ability. Mrs. F.'s sister broke my train of thought. She stood before me with averted eyes struggling to keep back the tears, and twisting her hands nervously.
”Mrs. Hartley ... I don't want to appear maudlin ... but I think ... you understand how I feel.... It seems almost inane to say ... how much we ... appreciate what you are doing.... For my sister's sake I thank you ... I....”
”I'm not doing it for your sister's sake”--I tried to speak gently but everything in me seemed to have grown hard and unyielding--”nor for my husband's sake; neither for my own; I've got a boy--a son ... and there are two little girls....”
A volley of sobs smote our ears and shook the bed.