For she did not challenge instantly, as did Felicity. A man might look at her a long time before her perfection smote him. It usually happened that way; it happened exactly like that to Perry Blair. He looked at her many, many times before he saw with seeing eyes and realized how shyly precious and flagrantly bold girlhood like hers could be.
Her smile was not as ready as that of the girl who danced. And it had become a little strained, a little edged, before the end. But it never lost its freshness. It was always as shining as fine rain at dawn.
And the inquiry in her eyes was not part calculation. They were more wistful, less expectant maybe. But they were steady. And gray as a November sea.
Once, remarking the incongruity of their names, Cecille repeated her own with a shade of scorn and provoked from her companion one of the few personalities in which she ever indulged.
"Cecille Manners!" she drawled. "Cecille Manners--gown-fitter"s a.s.sistant! With a name like that I should be in a Broadway chorus."
It happened late one evening. Cecille was half undressed for bed. And Felicity, busy at the mirror, turned an instant to follow with a dispa.s.sionate eye the slight, knickered figure crossing the room.
"With a figure like that, you mean," she amended. "It"s plain stingy to keep it under cover. Think of the thousands who are panting to pa.s.s over three-fifty per, just to sit out front and give it the up and down!"
Nor did the girl at the mirror see the raw flush which her cool comment brought to Cecille"s face, nor would she have understood it had she seen. That one"s privacy, one"s physical fastidiousness, could be affronted by mere words, would have astounded her. Fastidiousness carried that far--fastidiousness of any sort--was incomprehensible to Felicity. But she found the topic momentarily of interest.
"It is kind of stagy," she pursued it. "Your own?"
"Naturally."
Cecille"s crispness was lost upon her. They could never have quarreled. And Cecille had found a dressing-gown and hugged it tight around her knees.
"Oh, not necessarily," Felicity said, abstractedly judicious. "Take me for instance. I tried out four or five before I was inspired with the one I"m wearing now. And a couple of them woulda knocked you dead, take it from me. But the Vere de Vere stuff is bla now. Too phony.
There"s no cla.s.s to that kind of a monicker any more. And, believe me, you can"t afford to overlook any bets, nowadays; you got to have cla.s.s in everything. Something simple--something demure, that"s what they want. You got to be a lady."
And perhaps that is the best explanation, after all, of Felicity"s cultivation of the other girl. One cannot of oneself acquire breeding, but it is possible to study technique. And I think Cecille"s reason for sticking to Felicity to the very end is clear too. Once, before things happened, she was one of those people who believed in the inevitable dark river, or swift oblivion, or an agony of remorse.
Believed pathetically.
I think Felicity Brown served her as a fearsome revelation of life stripped to its rawest essentials,--a demonstration of shattering truths which she would never have believed had she not stood by, looking on. It held her as a snake"s eye holds a bird, fascinated, in deadly peril.
But they got on together. And as an economic arrangement it left nothing to be desired. Cecille sewed well and was paid twenty-two fifty a week. For her appearance in the Aero Octet Felicity received, at the beginning, forty-five. This may astonish some. It shouldn"t.
"I don"t pay my girls much." So Fiegenspann, the proprietor of the Roof Club, bluntly advised her, after she had pa.s.sed his scrutiny and been p.r.o.nounced unusual enough even for the Aero Octet. "I don"t have to. Because the opporchoonities here are big--very big. And I like my girls to be sociable. It makes business."
Felicity knew then that she had finally found the right man--the right market. She appreciated his frankness and reciprocated.
"I get you," she said, "and forty-five it is. And I"m sociable, or I can be, if sufficiently persuaded. Only let"s be clear about that point right now, at the start. You can send Opporchoonity"s card in whenever he calls and I"ll be pleased to meet him. But he mustn"t crawl up to the curb in any Decrepid Four--understand? He"s got to be hitting on twelve."
Fiegenspann understood. He nodded his heavy head. He began to see, then and there, that Felicity Brown was going to add another page to the Roof Club"s history. He even essayed a compliment.
"My clientele is of all the world," he said. "And you--you look expensif."
"I am," said Felicity. "No pikers need apply."
And with that business conference between Felicity and Fiegenspann began the revelation which during the months that followed Cecille watched in a kind of stricken suspense that must, it seems, have been childish antic.i.p.ation in the beginning of the pitiless blast which would complete the other"s sure destruction.
Since the day when freakish chance had thrown them together she had had no illusions concerning Felicity"s ultimate destiny. It had surprised her not that Felicity was traveling the road, but that she had not long since arrived. She had not learned then how coolly Felicity herself had selected that destiny and taken it in hand. She had not surmised with what dispa.s.sionate judgment she had husbanded her resources, once the route was chosen.
And she wouldn"t believe the evidence of her own eyes and ears, at first. It never happened this way--it couldn"t! Such things were the black fruit of one reckless moment; of nameless impulses; of bitter betrayal. Someone had written something like that. One more unfortunate, rashly importunate--that was it. She couldn"t remember the rest. And then her suspense, which was half fearsome expectancy, was overwhelmed by a thought which really frightened her.
If all that they had taught her wasn"t so; if all that she had accepted so blindly wasn"t the literal truth, inexorable for every individual (life was a too bitterly personal thing for her to concern herself with a doctrine which, accurate in the main, could be shrugged aside when it failed in isolated cases) then all the rest, all that she had clung to just as blindly, could be a lie. And if it was--if it was--
The thought struck at all she knew, all she had, her creed and code and hope of to-morrow.
Felicity when she burst in with the news that she had landed Fiegenspann did a wild can-can up and down the room. She danced as no one else ever saw her dance, in a surrender to exultation that was wanton savagery. But her mood pa.s.sed quickly. The next moment, like an implacable campaigner, she was summing up the excellences of her latest step.
"Now you watch me!" she said. "Now you watch my dust!"
It was cold-blooded; it was as pa.s.sionless as chess. And it was about then that Cecille began to draw nearer and nearer in spirit, like a bird hypnotized by a snake. The simile is hectic, I know. But it was like that.
She tried to hold aloof. She used to wonder why she had not packed her bag that night and got out. She used to shiver when she remembered Felicity"s dance. One couldn"t touch pitch and not be denied. There were, it seemed, an overwhelming number of such proverbs, and most of them forbidding.
But she stayed on. More than that, she found herself after a time stammering a question concerning each new cavalier as he appeared. And each time Felicity"s answer was unbelievably unconcerned and laconic.
"Nothing doing," she"d say. "He"s hard boiled."
Familiarity breeds complacency oftener than contempt. But it was neither the one nor the other which forced Cecille to ask, over and over again. Once Felicity surprised in her eyes the light that invariably accompanied the question.
"You"re a queer kid," she added that time, after the usual answer. "I sure don"t get you."
Later she thought she had solved it.
"Don"t you worry, Cele," she rea.s.sured her. "When the fall comes you"ll hear the crash. I"ll slip you the returns a little ahead of time so that you can get out from under."
"It--it wasn"t that," protested Cecille quickly.
She wondered why she didn"t pack up and get out.
But she was still there another night when Felicity finally came home again with every lithe line of her body pulsing triumph. She was even sitting up, which was unusual. An unusual occurrence accounted for it.
In the beginning Felicity had tried to share with the other girl those prospects who, for one reason or another, were of no importance.
"Come on along," she often urged. "These guys mean nothing in my young life except a dinner. And you needn"t worry. Believe me, you"ll be shown the same respect as if you were out with your maiden aunt. They know I"m refined and won"t stand for anything else. And it"ll do you good."
Cecille did go, once. So far as her escort was concerned she found that Felicity had spoken the truth. He was innocuous. He was, indeed, quite entirely unaware of her presence most of the evening. That did not displease her. She found him little stupider than a swain of the same age might have been in her own home town, even though his name did appear in heavy block type in the Social Register. But she went only once. She made a mistake. She had that day helped to costume a sister of one of the men. She happened now to mention that sister"s prettiness.
The man looked her in the eye, coldly, for a prolonged moment.
"Let"s leave my sister out of it," he said at length deliberately.
And Cecille"s cheeks were still pale from his tone when they arrived back at the apartment.
"That was a bad crack you made," Felicity told her then.
"I--I didn"t know."
"They don"t like to discuss their own womenfolks with girls like us."
"Oh!"
The exclamation was little more than a whisper.