miss billie married-第15章

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Behind　her；　Bertram；　remembering　the　scene

in　the　kitchen；　stared　in　sheer　amazement。　　Bertram；

it　might　be　mentioned　again；　had　been

married　six　months；　not　six　years。



What　Billy　had　intended　to　serve　for　a　‘‘simple

dinner''　that　night　was：　grapefruit　with　cherries；

oyster　stew；　boiled　halibut　with　egg　sauce；　chicken

pie；　squash；　onions；　and　potatoes；　peach　fritters；

a　‘‘lettuce　and　stuff''　salad；　and　some　new　pie

or　pudding。　　What　she　did　serve　was：　grapefruit

（without　the　cherries）；　cold　roast　lamb；　potatoes

（a　mush　of　sogginess）；　tomatoes　（canned；　and

slightly　burned）；　corn　（canned；　and　very　much

burned）；　lettuce　（plain）；　and　for　dessert；　preserved

peaches　and　cake　（the　latter　rather　dry　and

stale）。　　Such　was　Billy's　dinner。



The　grapefruit　everybody　ate。　　The　cold　lamb

too；　met　with　a　hearty　reception；　especially　after

the　potatoes；　corn；　and　tomatoes　were　served

and　tasted。　　Outwardly；　through　it　all；　Billy　was

gayety　itself。　　Inwardly　she　was　burning　up　with

anger　and　mortification。　　And　because　she　was

all　this；　there　was；　apparently；　no　limit　to　her

laughter　and　sparkling　repartee　as　she　talked

with　Calderwell；　her　guestthe　guest　who；

according　to　her　original　plans；　was　to　be　shown　how

happy　she　and　Bertram　were；　what　a　good　wife

she　made；　and　how　devoted　and　_satisfied_　Bertram

was　in　his　home。



William；　picking　at　his　dinneras　only　a

hungry　man　can　pick　at　a　dinner　that　is　uneatable

watched　Billy　with　a　puzzled；　uneasy

frown。　　Bertram；　choking　over　the　few　mouthfuls

he　ate；　marked　his　wife's　animated　face　and

Calderwell's　absorbed　attention；　and　settled　into

gloomy　silence。



But　it　could　not　continue　forever。　　The　preserved

peaches　were　eaten　at　last；　and　the　stale

cake　left。　　（Billy　had　forgotten　the　coffee

which　was　just　as　well；　perhaps。）　　Then　the　four

trailed　up…stairs　to　the　drawing…room。



At　nine　o'clock　an　anxious　Eliza　and　a　remorseful；

apologetic　Pete　came　home　and　descended

to　the　horror　the　once　orderly　kitchen　and　dining…

room　had　become。　　At　ten；　Calderwell；　with　very

evident　reluctance；　tore　himself　away　from　Billy's

gay　badinage；　and　said　good　night。　　At　two

minutes　past　ten；　an　exhausted；　nerve…racked　Billy

was　trying　to　cry　on　the　shoulders　of　both　Uncle

William　and　Bertram　at　once。



‘‘There；　there；　child；　don't！　　It　went　off　all

right；''　patted　Uncle　William。



‘‘Billy；　darling；''　pleaded　Bertram；　‘‘please

don't　cry　so！　　As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　step　foot　in

that　kitchen　again！''



At　this　Billy　raised　a　tear…wet　face；　aflame　with

indignant　determination。



‘‘As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　keep　me　_from_　it；　Bertram

Henshaw；　after　this！''　she　contested。　　‘‘I'm

not　going　to　do　another　thing　in　all　my　life　but

_cook！_　　When　I　think　of　the　stuff　we　had　to　eat；

after　all　the　time　I　took　to　get　it；　I'm　simply　crazy！　

Do　you　think　I'd　run　the　risk　of　such　a　thing　as

this　ever　happening　again？''







CHAPTER　XI



CALDERWELL　DOES　SOME　QUESTIONING





On　the　day　after　his　dinner　with　Mr。　and　Mrs。

Bertram　Henshaw；　Hugh　Calderwell　left　Boston

and　did　not　return　until　more　than　a　month　had

passed。　　One　of　his　first　acts；　when　he　did　come；

was　to　look　up　Mr。　M。　J。　Arkwright　at　the　address

which　Billy　had　given　him。



Calderwell　had　not　seen　Arkwright　since　they

parted　in　Paris　some　two　years　before；　after　a　six…

months　tramp　through　Europe　together。　　Calderwell

liked　Arkwright　then；　greatly；　and　he　lost

no　time　now　in　renewing　the　acquaintance。



The　address；　as　given　by　Billy；　proved　to　be　an

attractive　but　modest　apartment　hotel　near　the

Conservatory　of　Music；　and　Calderwell　was

delighted　to　find　Arkwright　at　home　in　his

comfortable　little　bachelor　suite。



Arkwright　greeted　him　most　cordially。



‘‘Well；　well；''　he　cried；　‘‘if　it　isn't　Calderwell！　

And　how's　Mont　Blanc？　　Or　is　it　the　Killarney

Lakes　this　time；　or　maybe　the　Sphinx　that　I

should　inquire　for；　eh？''



‘‘Guess　again；''　laughed　Calderwell；　throwing

off　his　heavy　coat　and　settling　himself　comfortably

in　the　inviting…looking　morris　chair　his

friend　pulled　forward。



‘‘Sha'n't　do　it；''　retorted　Arkwright；　with　a

smile。　　‘‘I　never　gamble　on　palpable　uncertainties；

except　for　a　chance　throw　or　two；　as　I　gave

a　minute　ago。　　Your　movements　are　altogether

too　erratic；　and　too　far…reaching；　for　ordinary

mortals　to　keep　track　of。''



‘‘Well；　maybe　you're　right；''　grinned　Calderwell；

appreciatively。　　‘‘Anyhow；　you　would　have

lost　this　time；　sure　thing；　for　I've　been　working。''



‘‘Seen　the　doctor　yet？''　queried　Arkwright；

coolly；　pushing　the　cigars　across　the　table。



‘‘Thanksfor　both；''　sniffed　Calderwell；　with

a　reproachful　glance；　helping　himself。　　‘‘Your

good　judgment　in　some　matters　is　still　unimpaired；

I　see；''　he　observed；　tapping　the　little　gilded　band

which　had　told　him　the　cigar　was　an　old　favorite。　

‘‘As　to　other　matters；　however；you're　wrong

again；　my　friend；　in　your　surmise。　　I　am　not　sick；

and　I　have　been　working。''



‘‘So？　　Well；　I'm　told　they　have　very　good

specialists　here。　　Some　one　of　them　ought　to

hit　your　case。　　Stillhow　long　has　it　been

running？''　　Arkwright's　face　showed　only　grave

concern。



‘‘Oh；　come；　let　up；　Arkwright；''　snapped

Calderwell；　striking　his　match　alight　with　a　vigorous

jerk。　　‘‘I'll　admit　I　haven't　ever　given　any　_special_

indication　of　an　absorbing　passion　for　work。　　But

what　can　you　expect　of　a　fellow　born　with　a

whole　dozen　silver　spoons　in　his　mouth？　　And

that's　what　I　was；　according　to　Bertram　Henshaw。　

According　to　him　again；　it's　a　wonder　I

ever　tried　to　feed　myself；　and　perhaps　he's　right

with　my　mouth　already　so　full。''



‘‘I　should　say　so；''　laughed　Arkwright。



‘‘Well；　be　that　as　it　may。　　I'm　going　to　feed

myself；　and　I'm　going　to　earn　my　feed；　too。　　I

haven't　climbed　a　mountain　or　paddled　a　canoe；

for　a　year。　　I've　been　in　Chicago　cultivating　the

acquaintance　of　John　Doe　and　Richard　Roe。''



‘‘You　meanlaw？''



‘‘Sure。　　I　studied　it　here　for　a　while；　before

that　bout　of　ours　a　couple　of　years　ago。　　Billy

drove　me　away；　then。''



‘‘Billy！erMrs。　Henshaw？''



‘‘Yes。　　I　thought　I　told　you。　　She　turned　down

my　tenth…dozen　proposal　so　emphatically　that　I

lost　all　interest　in　Boston　and　took　to　the　tall

timber　again。　　But　I've　come　back。　　A　friend　of

my　father's　wrote　me　to　come　on　and　consider　a

good　opening　there　was　in　his　law　office。　　I　came

on　a　month　ago；　and　considered。　　Then　I　went

back　to　pack　up。　　Now　I've　come　for　good；　and

here　I　am。　　You　have　my　history　to　date。　　Now

tell　me　of　yourself。　　You're　looking　as　fit　as　a

penny　from　the　mint；　even　though　you　have

discarded　that　‘lovely'　brown　beard。　　Was　that

a　concession　toer_Mary　Jane_？''



Arkwright　lifted　a　quick　hand　of　protest。



‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　please。　　There　is　no

‘Mary　Jane；'　now；''　he　said　a　bit　stiffly。



The　other　stared　a　little。　　Then　he　gave　a　low

chuckle。



‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　''　he　repeated　musingly；

eyeing　the　glowing　tip　of　his　cigar。　　‘‘And　to

think　how　that　mysterious　‘M。　J。'　used　to

tantalize　me！　　Do　you　mean；''　he　added；　turning

slowly；　‘‘that　no　one　calls　you　‘Mary　Jane'

now？''



‘‘Not　if　they　know　what　is　best　for　them。''



‘‘Oh！''　Calderwell　noted　the　smouldering　fire

in　the　other's　eyes　a　little　curiously。　　‘‘Very

well。　　I'll　take　the　hintMichael　Jeremiah。''



‘‘Thanks。''　　Arkwright　relaxed　a　little。　　‘‘To

tell　the　truth；　I've　had　quite　enough　nowof

Mary　Jane。''



‘‘Very　good。　　So　be　it；''　nodded　the　other；　still

regarding　his　friend　thoughtfully。　　‘‘But　tell　me

what　of　yourself？''



Arkwright　shrugged　his　shoulders。



‘‘There's　nothing　to　tell。　　You've　seen。　　I'm

here。''



‘‘Humph！　　Very　pretty；''　scoffed　Calderwell。　

‘‘Then　if　_you_　won't　tell；　I　_will_。　　I　saw　Billy　a

month　ago；　you　see。　　It　seems　you've　hit　the　trail

for　Grand　Opera；　as　you　threatened　to　that　night

in　Paris；　but　you　_haven't_　brought　up　in　vaudeville；

as　you　prophesied　you　would　dothough；　for

that　matter；　judging　from　the　plums　some　of　the

stars　are　picking　on　the　vaudeville　stage；　nowadays；

that　isn't　to　be　sneezed　at。　　But　Billy　says

you've　made　two　or　three　appearances　already　on

the　sacred　boards　themselvesone　of　them　a

subscription　performanceand　that　you　created

no　end　of　a　sensation。''



‘‘Nonsense！　　I'm　merely　a　student　at　the　Opera

School　here；''　scowled　Arkwright。



‘‘Oh；　yes；　Billy　said　you　were　that；　but　she　also

said　you　wouldn't　be；　long。　　That　you'd　already

had　one　good　offerI'm　not　speaking　of　marriage

and　that　you　were　going　abroad　next

summer；　and　that　they　were　all　insufferably

proud　of　you。''



‘‘Nonsense！''　scowled　Arkwright；　again；　coloring

like　a　girl。　　‘‘That　is　only　some　ofof　Mrs。

Henshaw's　kind　flattery。''



Calderwell　jerked　the　cigar　from　between　his

lips；　and　sat　suddenly　forward　in　his　chair。



‘‘Arkwright；　tell　me　about　them。　　How　are

they　making　it　go？''



Arkwright　frowned。



‘‘Who？　　Make　what　go？''　he　asked。



‘‘The　Henshaws。　　Is　she　happy？　　Is　heon

the　square？''



Arkwright's　face　darkened。



‘‘Well；　really；''　he　began；　but　Calderwell　interrupted。



‘‘Oh；　come；　don't　be　squeamish。　　You　think

I'm　butting　into　what　doesn't　concern　me；　but

I'm　not。　　What　concerns　Billy　does　concern　me。　

And　if　he　doesn't　make　her　happy；　I'llI'll　kill

him。''



In　spite　of　himself　Arkwright　laughed。　　The

vehemence　of　the　other's　words；　and　the　fierceness

with　which　he　puffed　at　his　cigar　as　he　fell

back　in　his　chair　were　most　expressive



‘‘Well；　I　don't　think　you　need　to　load　revolvers

nor　sharpen　daggers；　just　yet；''　he　observed　grimly。



Calderwell　laughed　this　time；　though　without

much　mirth。



‘‘Oh；　I'm　not　in　love　with　Billy；　now；''　he

explained。　　‘‘Please　don't　think　I　am。　　I　shouldn't

see　her　if　I　was；　of　course。''



Arkwright　changed　his　position　suddenly；　bringing

his　face　into　the　shadow。　　Calderwell　talked

on　without　pausing。



‘‘No；　I'm　not　in　love　with　Billy。　　But　Billy's

a　trump。　　You　know　that。''



‘‘I　do。''　　The　words　were　low；　but　steadily

spoken。



‘‘Of　course　you　do！　　We　all　do。　　And　we　want

her　happy。　　But　as　for　her　marrying　Bertram

you　could　have　bowled　me　over　with　a　soap　bubble

when　I　heard　she'd　done　it。　　Now　understand：

Bertram　is　a　good　fellow；　and　I　like　him。　　I've

known　him　all　his　life；　and　he's　all　right。　　Oh；　six

or　eight　years　ago；　to　be　sure；　he　got　in　with　a　set

of　fellowsBob　Seaver　and　his　cliquethat

were　no　good。　　Went　in　for　Bohemianism；　and

all　that　rot。　　It　wasn't　good　for　Bertram。　　He's

got　the　confounded　temperament　that　goes　with

his　talent；　I　supposethough　why　a　man　can't

paint　a　picture；　or　sing　a　song；　and　keep　his　temper

and　a　level　head　I　don't　see！''



‘‘He　can；''