Then Flannigan had talked to me about the pearls, and Mr. Harbison had said, "Good morning," very stiffly, and nearly rattled the inside of the furnace out.
Early in the morning, too, I overheard a sc.r.a.p of conversation between the policeman and our gentleman adventurer from South America. Something had gone wrong with the telephone and Mr. Harbison was fussing over it with a screw driver and a pair of scissors--all the tools he could find.
Flannigan was lifting rugs to shake them on the roof--Bella"s order.
"Wash the table linen!" he was grumbling. "I"ll do what I can that"s necessary. Grub has to be cooked, and dishes has to be washed--I"ll admit that. If you"re particular, make up your bed every day; I don"t object. But don"t tell me we have to use thirty-three table napkins a day. What did folks do before napkins was invented? Tell me that!"--triumphantly.
"What"s the answer?" Mr. Harbison inquired absently, evidently with the screw driver in his mouth.
"Used their pocket handkerchiefs! And if the worst comes to the worst, Mr. Harbison, these folks here can use their sleeves, for all I care--not that the women has any sleeves to speak of. Wash clothes I will not."
"Well, don"t worry Mrs. Wilson about it," the other voice said.
Flannigan straightened himself with a grunt.
"Mrs. Wilson!" he said. "A lot she would worry. She"s been a disappointment to me, Mr. Harbison, me thinking that now she"d come back to him, after leavin" him the way she did, they"d be like two turtle doves. Lord! The cook next door--"
But what the cook had told about Bella and Jimmy was not divulged, for the Harbison man caught him up with a jerk and sent Flannigan, grumbling, with his rugs to the roof.
It did not seem possible to carry on the deception much longer, but if things were bad now, what would they be when Aunt Selina learned she had been lied to, made ridiculous, generally deceived? And how would I be able to live in the house with her when she did know? Luckily, every one was so puzzled over the mystery in the house that numbers of little things that would have been absolutely d.a.m.ning were never noticed at all. For instance, my asking Jimmy at luncheon that day if he took cream in his coffee! And Max coming to the rescue by dropping his watch in his gla.s.s of water, and creating a diversion and giving everybody an opportunity to laugh by saying not to mind, it had been in soak before.
Just after luncheon Aunt Selina brought me some undergarments of Jim"s to be patched. She explained at length that he had always worn out his undergarments, because he always squirmed around so when he was sitting.
And she showed me how to lay one of the garments over a pillow to get the patch in properly.
It was the most humiliating moment of my life, but there was no escape.
I took my sewing to the roof, while she went away to find something else for me to do when that was finished, and I sat with the thing on my knee and stared at it, while rebellious tears rolled down my cheeks.
The patch was not the shape of the hole at all, and every time I took a st.i.tch I sewed it fast to the pillow beneath. It was terrible. Jim came up after a while and sat down across from me and watched, without saying anything. I suppose what he felt would not have been proper to say to me. We had both reached the point where adequate language failed us.
Finally he said:
"I wish I were dead."
"So do I," I retorted, jerking the thread.
"Where is she now?"
"Looking for more of these." I indicated the garment over the pillow, and he wiggled. "Please don"t squirm," I said coldly. "You will wear out your--lingerie, and I will have to mend them."
He sat very still for five minutes, when I discovered that I had put the patch in crosswise instead of lengthwise and that it would not fit. As I jerked it out he sneezed.
"Or sneeze," I added venomously. "You will tear your b.u.t.tons off, and I will have to sew them on."
Jim rose wrathfully. "Don"t sit, don"t sneeze," he repeated. "Don"t stand, I suppose, for fear I will wear out my socks. Here, give me that.
If the fool thing has to be mended, I"ll do it myself."
He went over to a corner of the parapet and turned his back to me. He was very much offended. In about a minute he came back, triumphant, and held out the result of his labor. I could only gasp. He had puckered up the edges of the hole like the neck of a bag, and had tied the thread around it. "You--you won"t be able to sit down," I ventured.
"Don"t have any time to sit," he retorted promptly. "Anyhow, it will give some, won"t it? It would if it was tied with elastic instead of thread. Have you any elastic?"
Lollie came up just then, and Jim took himself and his mending downstairs. Luckily, Aunt Selina found several letters in his room that afternoon while she was going over his clothes, and as it took Jim some time to explain them, she forgot the task she had given me altogether.
When Lollie came up to the roof, she closed the door to the stairs, and coming over, drew a chair close to mine.
"Have you seen much of Tom today?" she asked, as an introduction.
"I suppose you mean Mr. Harbison, Lollie," I said. "No--not any more than I could help. Don"t whisper, he couldn"t possibly hear you. And if it"s scandal I don"t want to know it."
"Look here, Kit," she retorted, "you needn"t be so superior. If I like to talk scandal, I"m not so sure you aren"t making it."
That was the way right along: I was making scandal; I brought them there to dinner; I let Bella in!
And, of course, Anne came up then, and began on me at once.
"You are a very bad girl," she began. "What do you mean by treating Tom Harbison the way you do? He is heart-broken."
"I think you exaggerate my influence over him," I retorted. "I haven"t treated him badly, because I haven"t paid any attention to him."
Anne threw up her hands.
"There you are!" she said. "He worked all day yesterday fixing this place for you--yes, for you, my dear. I am not blind--and last night you refused to let him bring you up."
"He told you!" I flamed.
"He wondered what he had done. And as you wouldn"t let him come within speaking distance of you, he came to me."
"I am sorry, Anne, since you are fond of him," I said. "But to me he is impossible--intolerable. My reasons are quite sufficient."
"Kit is perfectly right, Anne," Leila broke in. "I tell you, there is something queer about him," she added in a portentous whisper.
Anne stiffened.
"He is perfect," she declared. "Of good family, warm-hearted, courageous, handsome, clever--what more do you ask?"
"Honesty," said Leila hotly. "That a man should be what he says he is."
Anne and I both stared.
"It is your Mr. Harbison," Leila went on, "who tried to escape from the house by putting a board across to the next roof!"
"I don"t believe it," said Anne. "You might bring me a picture of him, board in hand, and I wouldn"t believe it."
"Don"t then," Lollie said cruelly. "Let him get away with your pearls; they are yours. Only, as sure as anything, the man who tried to escape from the house had a reason for escaping, and the papers said a man in evening dress and light overcoat. I found Mr. Harbison"s overcoat today lying in a heap in one of the maids" rooms, and it was covered with brick dust all over the front. A b.u.t.ton had even been torn off."
"Pooh!" Anne said, when she had recovered herself a little. "There isn"t any reason, as far as that goes, why Flannigan shouldn"t have worn Tom"s overcoat, or--any of the others."
"Flannigan!" Leila said loftily. "Why, his arms are like piano legs; he couldn"t get into it. As for the others, there is only one person who would fit, or nearly fit, that overcoat, and that is Dallas, Anne."
While Anne was choking down her wrath, Leila got up and darted out of the tent. When she came back she was triumphant.
"Look," she said, holding out her hand. And on her palm lay a lightish brown b.u.t.ton. "I found it just where the paper said the board was thrown out, and it is from Mr. Harbison"s overcoat, without a doubt."
Of course I should not have been surprised. A man who would kiss a woman on a dark staircase--a woman he had known only two days--was capable of anything.