"Is he?" Laine put down his cup. "Well, he won"t see me on business to-night. I"ve an office down-town. In your part of the world, Miss Keith, don"t you ever let men have a chance to forget there"s such a thing as business?"
Claudia got up. "I"m afraid they have too much chance." She put her hand lightly on Mrs. Warrick"s arm. "Will you excuse me, Hope? I have a letter to write." She bowed slightly in Laine"s direction and was gone before he could reach the door to draw aside the curtains for her.
Mrs. Warrick leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Do sit down, Winthrop, and let"s talk. I"m so glad to have a little time alone with you. I so seldom have it that--"
"Your guest was certainly not slow in giving it to you. She could hardly do anything but leave after your insistence upon having things to tell me. What in the name of Heaven did you do that for? Does she think we don"t know how to behave up here?"
"Oh, she understands! She knows you didn"t come to see her, and, besides, she"s gone up-stairs to write to her mother. If King George had been here she"d have gone. You know, I really dreaded her coming, but I needn"t. She has been to a good many places--was abroad for a year with one of her sisters whose husband was secretary or something to one of our ministers or somebody--but she doesn"t know New York at all. She"s met a number of her friend"s friends already, and I won"t have to scoop up men for her. Last night at the Van Doren"s she had more around her than she could talk to. Always has had, Channing says. She"ll be no bother; and don"t stay away because she"s here. Tell me"--she put her hand on his knee--"is it true you are going to Panama next month? Robin French told me she heard you would leave on the twelfth."
"If Miss French could sell fairy tales as rapidly as she can repeat them she"d make a fortune. I have no idea what I am going to do next month."
"I wish I didn"t know I was going to Savannah for Christmas. It"s Channing"s year, and of course we ought to go to his mother, as she is too old to come to us, but there"s so much going on, and then you"ll be alone."
"Oh, I"ll manage all right. The one good thing about Christmas is it doesn"t last long." He leaned forward and with the tongs turned a smoldering log. "But it"s incomprehensible how a woman with a home can keep up this everlasting going to other people"s houses.
To-morrow night you go--"
"To the Taillors. Mrs. Taillor"s debutante daughter makes her first bow to--"
"Capitalized society, does she? Poor child! The pains of pleasure are many."
"They surely are! She looks like a scared rabbit, and I heard her say only a week ago she"d rather die than be a debutante. But she"ll get on. Her mother will corral the men and compel them to come in and pay her attention. Are you going?"
"Hardly." Laine looked at his watch. "What time do you have dinner?"
"Seven. It"s time for me to dress." Mrs. Warrick got up. "Do pray be decent and go to-morrow night, Winthrop. Mr. Taillor has been such a good friend, and Mrs. Taillor will be so pleased. Don"t forget to send the child flowers. I wonder if Claudia is ready.
Dorothea grabs her every chance she gets, and I don"t doubt she"s with the children this minute. She"ll stay until dinner is served, so don"t worry; and for goodness" sake don"t let her being here keep you away."
VIII
THE RECEPTION
Going down the crowded steps into the crowded drawing-room, Winthrop Laine slowly made his way through the door to the place where Mr. and Mrs. Taillor and their daughter were receiving their guests and pa.s.sing them on with a rapidity that would have been creditable to the custodian of a game of human roulette, and as he reached them his name was called with uncomfortable clearness.
"Well, this is a surprise!" Both of Mrs. Taillor"s hands held Laine"s. "But commend me to a person who knows when to change his mind. Jessica, you should feel honored. Awfully good of you to come! How do you do, Mrs. Haislip?" And Laine, too, was pa.s.sed on, and a moment later found himself in a corner where he could watch the door and all who came in.
What was he here for? He didn"t know. The air was heavy with perfume. In the distance music reached him faintly, and the throb and stir and color and glow for some minutes interested him as he glanced around the handsome room with its ma.s.sed palms, its wealth of flowers, its brilliant lights, and streams of gorgeously gowned women and prosperous-looking men, and then he wondered what had made him start anything of this sort again. To come had been a sudden decision. Long ago the dreariness of functions such as these had caused their giving-up, but a fancy to look once more upon one had possessed him unaccountably, and he had come.
Up-stairs in the men"s room his reappearance had been banteringly commented on, and with good-natured hand-shaking he had been welcomed back; but down here many faces were strange and figures unrecognizable; and with something of shock he realized how few were the years necessary to change the personnel of any division of humanity. The heat was intense, and moving farther back toward a screen of palms near a half-open window, he pulled one slightly forward that he might see and not be seen, and again watched each newcomer with mild speculation as to whether he or she were known or not.
For a while it was puzzling, this continuing arrival of new faces, with here and there one he knew well or slightly; but gradually its effect chilled, and he was wondering if he could get away when he heard his name called.
"Winthrop Laine! Of all people!" Miss French held out her hand.
"From what loophole were you watching this pa.s.sing show for man"s derision given? May I come in?"
"You may."
Miss French moved behind the palms and pushed a tall leaf aside.
"You and I are too old for these things, Winthrop. I don"t know why I come--to get away from myself, I suppose. Look at that Miss Cantrell! She parades her bones as if they were a private collection of which she was proud! And did you ever see anything as hideous as that gown Miss Gavins has on? Paris green couldn"t be more deadly.
I heard Mathilda Hickman tell her just now to be sure and wear it to her dinner next week, it was so becoming; and only yesterday she was shrieking over it at a luncheon where everybody was talking about it, Mr. Trehan is to be at the dinner, and Mathilda wants every woman to look her worst. h.e.l.lo! There comes Channing and Hope and the cousin from the country. Rather a nice sort of person, awfully young and inexperienced, but--" She put up her lorgnette. "They are talking to Miss Cantrell. Miss Keith is not becoming to Miss Cantrell, or Miss Gavins, either. Her shoulders are excellent and her head perfectly poised. That white dress suits her. Have you been in the dining-room?"
Laine came from behind the palms. "No; I was to wait for Hope.
Awfully glad to have seen you, Robin. A stranger in a strange land has a chance, but a man who has lost his place hasn"t. People have a way of closing up if you lose step, and I"--he laughed--"I lost step long ago. I"ll see you again." And, watching, Miss French saw him take possession of Miss Keith and go with her out of the room.
Half an hour later Laine found a chair for Claudia at the end of the hall opposite the dining-room, and as she sat down he wiped his forehead. "I used to play football, but--"
"You"re out of practice? I don"t believe you did take more than three men by the shoulders and put them aside. I don"t understand football very well, but a dining-room seems to be the center-rush.
Please look at that crowd over there!" She nodded toward the open door, through which a ma.s.s of men could be seen struggling. "Isn"t it queer--the eagerness with which a plate of salad is pursued?"
"And the earnestness with which it is devoured." Laine put his handkerchief in his pocket. Will you wait here a moment until I can get you something? I"ll be back--"
"Indeed I won"t." Claudia stood up. "It"s fun to watch, but only fruit from the tree of life would be worth a scrimmage of that kind.
If I could get on top of a picture-frame or a curtain-pole, or anything from which I could look down on a show like this, I"d have a beautiful time, but"--she opened her fan--"it"s rather stuffy to be in it."
Laine glanced around. He knew the house well. Next to the library, but not opening into it, was a small room of Taillor"s which could only be reached by a narrow pa.s.sage at their right. He walked away and looked in at the door. The room was empty.
"I think it will be more comfortable over there," he said, coming back, then saw she was talking to a man he had long known and long disliked. He stopped a servant who was pa.s.sing, a man who had once been in the employ of one of his clubs. "Bring some stuff over here and be quick, will you, David?" he said, then spoke to the man talking to Miss Keith.
His greeting to Dudley was not cordial. It was with difficulty indeed that he did not take Claudia away at once. Dudley was not the sort of man for her to have anything to do with. In a time incredibly short, but to Laine irritatingly long, David was back, abundantly supplied; and with a nod he was directed to the room at the end of the narrow hall, and Laine turned to the girl at his side.
"Are you ready?"
"Good night." Miss Keith held out her hand. "Bettina sent you many messages."
"I"m coming to get them--may I?" Mr. Dudley"s eyes were frankly eager. "But where are you going? Laine always was a monopolist.
What are you doing at a thing of this kind, anyhow, Laine? Don"t pay any attention to him, Miss Keith. He"s mere facts and figures, and the froth of life is not in him. I"m much better company."
The last words were lost in the push of new arrivals, and quickly Laine led the way to the room where David was waiting. Through the open door the sound of music reached them faintly over the shrill rise and fall of many voices; and as Claudia sat down near the table on which various plates had been placed she put her hands to the sides of her face and, laughing, drew them away.
"Did you ever put a c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l to your ear and notice its roar?"
she asked. "That"s how a Tea sounds when there"re only women at it.
When there"re men it"s more so. What is this?" She held her fork suspended for a moment. "It"s awfully good, but very elusive. What do you suppose it is?"
"A bunch of guesses wouldn"t hit it. Clicot is providing the provender, I believe; I see his men here, and the ambition of Clicot"s life is to create a new dish. I"m glad you like it. It"s as near nothing as anything I ever ate. Are you comfortable? Is that chair all right?"
Claudia nodded. "Why don"t you sit down? I"m sorry we can"t see the people, but it"s nice to be out of the crowd." She looked around the room. "This is a very handsome house. I never saw more gorgeous flowers, and tomorrow," she gave a queer little sigh, "tomorrow it will all be over--and the flowers faded."
"Faded things are the penalties of wealth. It"s the one compensation for follies of this sort that they are soon over."
"I don"t think they are always follies. When I was young--"
He looked down at her, in his eyes a quiet gleam. "When you were what?"
"Young. Really young, I mean. I had my party when I was eighteen.
I remember it just as well." She gave a happy little laugh. "But of course we change with time. My sister says I am developing a dreadful disease. It"s a tendency. Did you ever have it?"
"A what?"