Part 12 (1/2)

”John,” said she, ”there isn't a gray hair in it. Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Eddring had turned, and was fumbling at a drawer in his desk. He raised a face flushed and conscious-looking. ”The fact is, mother, I've got a new necktie right here, and--and I want to put it on.”

CHAPTER X

MISS LADY OF THE STAIR

”I have always told you, Lady,” said Mrs. Ellison, ”how a girl who hasn't any fortune can best achieve things. Of course, it's a question of a man. When she has found the man, it rests with her. She must let herself out and yet keep herself in hand. Emotion, but not too much, and at the right time--that's the scheme for a girl who wants to succeed.”

”How you preach, mamma!” said Miss Lady, petulantly. ”You are always talking to me about the men. As if I cared a straw!”

”You ought to care, Lady. Men! Why, there's nothing in the world for a woman except the men.”

Miss Lady said nothing, but went on adjusting a pin which she took from among several others held in her mouth. At length she patted down her gown, and frowned with a sigh of satisfaction, as she looked down over her long and adequate curves. Discovering a wrinkle in the skirt of her gown, she smoothed it out deftly with both hands.

”There are not very many gentlemen to bother about down at the Big House now, mamma,” said she; ”at least, not since Mr. Decherd left.

But then, he's coming back. Did you know that?”

Mrs. Ellison's face showed a swift gleam of satisfaction. ”I hope he will,” said she. ”But, after all, we must sometime go somewhere else.

Now, New Orleans, or New York perhaps. You are almost pretty sometimes, Lady. We could do things with you, in the right place.”

Miss Lady stamped her foot upon the floor in sudden fury. ”Mamma,”

cried she, ”when you talk this way I fairly hate you!”

”You talk like all the foolish Ellisons,” said the other, slowly.

”Now, I could tell you things, when the time came. But, meantime, you forget that you and I have absolutely no resources.”

”Excepting me!” This with white scorn.

”Excepting you.” This with frank cynicism.

Miss Lady controlled herself with difficulty. ”At least,” said she, ”we have a home with Colonel Blount. He has always said he wanted us to stay, and that he couldn't do without us. Now”--and she laughed gaily--”if Colonel Blount didn't have a red mustache, I might marry him, mightn't I?”

”Be done with such talk,” said Mrs. Ellison, sharply, ”You'd much better think about Mr. Decherd. And yet,”--she frowned and nervously bit her finger-tips as she turned away. Miss Lady made no answer except to go over again to stand before the mirror, where she executed certain further pattings and smoothings of her apparel.

The two were occupied, in these somewhat dingy quarters in the hotel, in preparing for their sallying out upon a shopping expedition in the city, an event of a certain interest to plantation dwellers. Mrs.

Ellison paused in her own operations to extract from a hand-bag a flask, wherefrom she helped herself to a generous draft. Miss Lady caught the flask from her.

”You disgust me, mamma,” said she. ”How often have I told you!”

”You were not quick enough, my dear,” said Mrs. Ellison, calmly.

”Now, I was saying that you were born for lace and satins. Promise me, Lady, no matter what happens, that if you ever get them, you will give me a few things for myself, won't you? Sometimes--sometimes I am not certain.” She smiled as she spoke. There might have been politic overture, or beseeching, or threat, or deadly sarcasm in her speech.

Miss Lady could not tell; and it had taken, indeed, a keen student to define the real meaning of the enigmatical face of Alice Ellison, woman not yet forty, ease-loving, sensuous, yet for this time almost timorous.

”Now, a good, liberal man,” began Mrs. Ellison presently, however, ”is the best ambition for any young woman. For some reasons, we might do better than remain at the Big House longer. We will see, my dear, we'll see.” And so they stepped out into the hall.