Part 18 (1/2)

A short silence fell.

”Are you really going to sing at the Firemen's Ball?” she asked curiously.

”I haven't been asked yet,” he reminded her. ”Don't you think it a good idea?”

”Oh, I don't know,” said Nan, but her voice had a little edge. Keith felt it, and made the usual masculine blunder. He stopped short, thunderstruck at a new idea.

”Why, Nan,” he cried reproachfully, ”I don't believe you like her!”

”Like her!” she flashed back, her anger leaping to unreasonable proportions--”that old frump!”

No sooner had the door closed after them than Morrell's conventional smile faded, and his countenance fell into its usual hard, cold impa.s.sivity.

”Well, what is the game there?” he demanded.

”There is no game,” she replied indifferently.

”There is very little money there, I warn you,” he persisted.

She turned on him with sudden fury.

”Oh, shut up!” she cried. ”I know my own business!”

”And I know mine,” he told her, slowly and dangerously. ”And I warn you to go slow unless I give the word.”

She stared at him a moment, and he stared back. Then, quite deliberately, she walked over to him until her breast almost touched him. Her eyes were half closed, and a little smile parted her full lips.

”Charley,” she drawled wickedly, ”I warn _you_ to go slow. And I warn you not to interfere with me--or I might interfere with you!”

Morrell shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with an a.s.sumption of indifference.

”Please yourself. But I can't afford a scandal just now.”

”_You_ can't afford a _scandal!_” she cried, and laughed hardly.

”Not just now,” he repeated.

XVIII

Perhaps this unwise antagonizing by her husband, perhaps the idleness with which the well-to-do woman was afflicted, perhaps a genuine liking for Keith, gave Mrs. Morrell just the impulse needed. At any rate, she used the common bond of music to bring him much into her company. This was not a difficult matter. Keith was extravagantly fond of just this sort of experimental amateur excursions into lighter music, and he liked Mrs. Morrell. She was a good sort, straightforward and honest and direct, no nonsense in her, but she knew her way about, and a man could have a sort of pleasing, harmless flirtation to which she knew how to play up. There was not, nor could there be--in Keith's mind--any harm in their relations. Nan was the woman for him; but that didn't mean that he was never to see anybody else, or that other women might not--of course in unessential and superficial ways--answer some of his varied needs.

Mrs. Morrell was skilful at keeping up his interest, and she was equally skilful in gradually excluding Nan. This was not difficult, for Nan was secretly bored by the eternal practising, and repelled by Mrs.

Morrell's efforts to be fascinating. She saw them plainly enough, but was at first merely amused and faintly disgusted, for she was proud enough to believe absolutely that such crude methods could have no effect on Milton, overlooking the fact that the crudities of women never appear as plainly to a man as they do to another woman. For a woman is in the know. At first she offered one excuse or another, in an attempt to be both polite and plausible. She much preferred a book at home, or a whole free evening to work at making her house attractive.

Later, Keith got into the habit of taking her att.i.tude for granted.

”I promised to run over to the Morrells' this evening,” he would say, ”More music. Of course you won't care to come. You won't be lonely? I won't be gone late.”

”Of course not,” she laughed. ”I'm thankful for the chance to get through with the blue room.”