Part 45 (1/2)

With an effort the girl removed her hands, but Darley Roberts saw she was still trembling.

”No need to apologize.” She closed the door mechanically. ”You did surprise me, it's true; but that wasn't the trouble really. I've been expecting something to happen all day, something that hasn't happened yet, and when you rang I fancied--” She laughed, as though the inadequate explanation were complete and withal a thing of trivial moment. ”You remember once I told you I believed, after all, you had nerves. I'm making the tardy discovery that I've got them myself.”

In his turn Roberts smiled and ignored the obvious. He seldom antic.i.p.ated, this man.

”Yes, we all have them, I guess,” he dismissed, ”along with an appendix and a few other superfluous items.” He was still standing just within the doorway. ”First of all, though, I don't intrude? Harry Randall told me about your father.”

”He's been much better to-day, and he's asleep this evening already.” In swift reaction the girl was herself again, more than her recent self, positively gay. ”Intrude!” she laughed softly. ”You're actually becoming humorous; and as you would say, your dearest enemies have never accused you of that before. Come.”

Between genteel poverty and absolute poverty there are distinguis.h.i.+ng signs and Darley Roberts observed all things; but not once from his point of vantage in the den he recalled so well did he seem to take observations--any more than he seemed to see the alteration, likewise unmistakable, in the girl herself.

”It seems as though it were only yesterday instead of--I don't like to think how many ages ago, I was here last,” he commented as he relaxed in familiar comfort. ”If you just had one of those linen things you used to work on, and--”

The ball of white, like a crumpled handkerchief, which had been lying idle in the girl's lap was unrolled and, before the speaker's eyes, there appeared against the colorless background a clover with four leaves.

”Elice!” It was unfeigned surprise. ”Is this another regiment or are you still working on that last one yet?”

The girl sorted her silks in demure impa.s.sivity.

”Another regiment entirely--or is it an army? I've forgotten how many comprise a regiment.” She went to work with steady fingers. ”These lunch cloths of mine are becoming as staple as soap or quinine.”

Roberts watched as the needle went through and through, but he did not smile. He could not.

”Another regiment! Then I haven't really been sleeping,” he said. ”For a moment when that four-leafed clover showed--By the way, do you happen to recall what day of the month this is?”

”Yes.” The girl's eyes did not leave her work. ”I remembered it the first thing when I got up this morning.”

”You remembered? And still you were surprised when I came. Didn't you think I'd remember too?”

”I didn't doubt it.”

”And come to commemorate the date, December the sixth?”

”Commemorate, yes. Come? I didn't know. I hoped--until it grew dark; then--one loses certainty alone after dark.”

”It wasn't that which you had expected all day to happen, though,” said Roberts, evenly.

The girl did not dissimulate.

”No,” she said simply.

One step nearer had they approached the mystery, one step only, but the man came no further--then.

”And weren't you going to commemorate it yourself, since you remembered?”

he digressed.

”Yes, I have done so. I've been celebrating all day. I haven't washed a dish; they're all stacked out in the kitchen. And this--” she stood up deliberately and turned about that the other might see--”is my party gown, worn in honor of the occasion.” She returned to her place and again the needle pa.s.sed methodically in and out of the linen. ”Are you satisfied?”

”Satisfied!” It was the rebellious cry of a dominant thing trapped and suffering. ”Satisfied!” By pure force of will he held back the flood.

”Elice, won't you please put up that work--for to-night? It's--ghastly.”