Part 18 (1/2)
”I stood up abruptly. The atrocity in the mirror rose also.
”'That isn't I,' I cried imploringly.
”Mrs. Hedges looked startled, but Andy came to my side at once.
”'No, it certainly isn't,' he said heartily. 'What on earth have you been doing to yourself, Connie?'
”I went close to the mirror, inspecting myself, grimly, piteously. I do not understand it to this day. The girls do the same things to themselves and they look wonderful,--never like that.
”I rubbed my lips with my fingers, and understood the moisture. I examined my brows, and knew what the scratching meant. I shook the pile of hair, and a shower of invisible hair pins rewarded me. I brushed my fingers across my throat, and a cloud of powder wafted outward.
”What does it say in the Bible about the way of the unrighteous? Well, I know just as much about the subject as the Bible does, I think. For a time I was speechless. I did not wish to blame my friends. But I could not bear to think that any one should carry away such a vision of one of father's daughters.
”'Take a good look at me please,' I said, laughing, at last, 'for you will never see me again. I am Neptune's second daughter. I stepped full-grown into the world to-night from the hands of my faithless friends. Another step into my own room, and the lovely lady is gone forever.'
”Andy understands me, and he laughed. But his mother still smiled the clouded smile.
”I hurled myself into the depths of self-abas.e.m.e.nt. I spared no harsh details. I told of the shampoo, and the candy on the window-ledge, the magazine under the bed. Religiously I itemized every article on my person, giving every one her proper due. Then I excused myself and went up-stairs. I sneaked into my own room, removed the dream of Nile green and lace and jumped up and down on it a few times, in stocking feet, so the girls would not hear,--and relieved my feelings somewhat.
I think I had to resort to gold dust to resurrect my own complexion,--not the best in the world perhaps, but mine, and I am for it. I combed my hair. I donned my simple blue dress,--cost four-fifty and Aunt Grace made it.' I wore my white kid slippers and stockings.
My re-debut--ever hear the word?--was worth the exertion. Andy's face shone as he came to meet me. His mother did not know me.
”'I am Miss Starr,' I said. 'The one and only.'
”'Why, you sweet little thing,' she said, smiling, without the cloud.
”We went for a long drive, and had supper down-town at eleven o'clock, and she kept me with her at the hotel all night. It was Sat.u.r.day. I slept with her and used all of her night things and toilet articles. I told her about the magnificent stories I am going to write sometime, and she told me what a darling Andy was when he was a baby, and between you and me, I doubt if they have a million dollars to their name.
Honestly, Carol, they are just as nice as we are.
”They stayed in Chicago three days, and she admitted she came on purpose to get acquainted with me. She made me promise to spend a week with them in Cleveland when I can get away, and she gave me the dearest little pearl ring to remember her by. But I wonder--I wonder-- Anyhow I can't tell him until he asks me, can I? And he has never said a word. You know yourself, Carol, you can't blurt things out at a man until he gives you a chance. So my conscience is quite free. And she certainly is adorable. Think of a mother-in-law like that, pink and gray, with dimples. Yes, she is my ideal of a mother-in-law. I haven't met 'father' yet, but he doesn't need to be very nice. A man can hide a hundred faults in one fold of a pocketbook the size of his.
”Lots of love to you both,--and you write to Larkie oftener than you do to me, which isn't fair, for she has a husband and a baby and is within reaching distance of father, and I am an orphan, and a widow, and a stranger in a strange land.
”But I love you anyhow.
”Connie.”
CHAPTER XV
THE SECOND STEP
They sat on canvas chairs on the sand outside the porch of the sanatorium, warmly wrapped in rugs, for the summer evenings in New Mexico are cold, and watched the shadows of evening tarnish the gold of the mesa. Like children, they held hands under the protecting shelter of the rug. They talked of little Julia off in Mount Mark, how she was growing, the color of her eyes, the shape of her fingers. They talked of her possible talents, and how they could best be developed, judging as well as they could in advance by the a.s.sembled qualities of all her relatives. David suggested that they might be prejudiced in her favor a little, for as far as they could determine there was no avenue of ability closed to her, but Carol stanchly refused to admit the impeachment. They talked of the schools best qualified to train her, of the teachers she must have, of the ministers they must demand for her spiritual guidance. They talked of the thousand bad habits of other little girls, and planned how Julia should be led surely, sweetly by them.
Then they were silent, thinking of the little pink rosebud baby as she had left them.
The darkness swept down from the mountains almost as sand-storms come, and Carol leaned her head against David's shoulder. She was happy.
David was so much better. The horrible temperature was below ninety-nine at last, and David was allowed to walk about the mesa, and his appet.i.te was ravenous. Maybe the doctors were wrong after all. He was certainly on the high-road to health now. She was so glad David had not known how near the dark valley he had pa.s.sed.