Part 33 (1/2)

”I expect to have something mapped out to-morrow,” Somerled answered.

”You'll go on with your trip--your rest cure--I suppose, as you meant to when we--that is, before you were saddled with all this responsibility?”

”I've been looking forward to Edinburgh, from the first,” said he, evasively.

Aline saw that she would get no more satisfaction, and ceased to risk irritating him; but after her guests had bidden her good-night, she kept me for a talk.

Of course she made me describe the scene between Barrie and her mother, but she was more interested to know how Somerled had looked, what he had said and done, than in my opinion of Mrs. Bal.

”What do _you_ think he means to do?” she appealed to me, desperately.

”Do you think he's so infatuated with Barrie that he'll offer to take the girl off her mother's hands and marry her?”

”I've been studying Somerled for both our sakes,” I said. ”What I think is, he's been telling himself the girl is too young and all that, and ought to have a chance to meet a lot of other men. Yet he's seen how she unconsciously attracts every male creature who comes along, and that it's a danger for her if----”

”_Unconsciously_ attracts! But I forgot, you're infatuated too. And she _doesn't_ attract everybody. George Vanneck hardly considers her pretty.

He can't bear this rising generation of long-legged young colts, he says; and he calls her hair carrots.”

”We'll cross George off the list. It's long enough without him, and increasing with leaps and bounds. There'll probably be more names on it by to-morrow night” (evidently I have a prophetic soul). ”But to go back to Somerled. Of course he foresaw something of what happened to-day: but Barrie's face when Mrs. Bal suggested being a sister to her was enough to turn a man of marble into a man of fire; and I don't think Somerled's resolutions up to that point were as hard even as sandstone. He must see now, as I do, that there'll be no place for the poor child with her mother, whether Mrs. Bal marries a millionaire or goes gayly on with her career as an actress. What is to become of a girl like Barrie, left to her own devices, with every man--well, let's say every _second_ man--who pa.s.ses, stopping to flirt if not to propose? My fear is that Somerled's resolutions are turning round the other way, and that he's contemplating himself as permanent guardian--if Barrie'll take him.”

”Take him! She'll snap at him. She shows her feelings in the most disgusting way. Oh, my _dear_ boy! I apologize. But I have feelings too--as you know only too well.”

”I'm afraid she _is_ getting to like him,” I said, ”but I persuade myself, anyhow, that she's more in love with love in general than with Somerled in particular. She's under the influence of the heather moon.”

”I'm not going to let her have Somerled!” Aline cried out sharply. ”I can't bear it. Can you?”

”I'm an idiot about the girl,” I admitted. ”I get worse every day. The more flies that collect round the honey the more I want it myself. I didn't know I was that sort of person, but I am. The worst of it is, she calls me her brother, which is fatal.”

”No, it isn't. It shan't be,” said Aline. ”I shall get her for you.”

”Thank you very much,” said I.

”I'm not joking. An idea is on its way to me. I've been seeing it dimly for days, but its success depended a good deal on Mrs. Bal. Now, her being afraid of me makes it easier. I can't lie here idle, with all this going on--yet I can't let _him_ see me as I am. My eyes look hideous.

They're pink, like an albino's. Otherwise I wouldn't listen to the oculist. But I must do something. I begin to see what I _can_ do, if you'll go on helping me and yourself, and not be a fool.”

”I won't be more of a fool than Nature made me,” I a.s.sured her, ”though I may be a fool to love that girl.”

”No, for you can make her care. Of course you can. She's hardly more than a child.”

”You were married at eighteen,” I reminded my sister. ”At least you always tell people you were.”

”If you were a woman, you'd be a thorough cat! It's true--I wasn't much more, but _I_ was mature in mind. I'd seen the world. Barrie MacDonald will make you happy. You'll play together all your lives, and she can take my place, helping you to write stories. It will be quite a romance for the newspapers. And when she's out of sight, out of mind with Ian Somerled, he'll realize that she wasn't the right one. He'll come back to me, and see that I was always meant for him.”

”A woman's instinct is often right. Also many a heart is caught in the rebound,” said I, falling back on proverbs. And in this way, with the talc that entered Aline's eyes, malice entered our hearts. Thus we took up our parts of (alleged) villain and villainess.

Next morning, as early as I dared, I sent to ask if I might give Mrs.

Ballantree MacDonald a message from my sister. Word came back that she would see me at once. Five minutes later I was knocking at the door of her sitting-room, and, obeying her ”Come in,” found myself in the presence of a Vision. She was in one of those tea-gown arrangements like Aline's, only more so. She had a cap which, I fear, would have made Aline's look, as they expressively say on the other side, ”like thirty cents.” And if Morgan P. Bennett had seen the beautiful Barbara then, he would have proposed without hesitating another second. That is, he would have done so if Barrie hadn't come in before he began. She did come while I was giving Aline's message to Mrs. Bal, and though she looked as if she hadn't slept, to me she was more lovable than ever. I tried to convince myself that Aline was right; that this girl and I were made for each other; that, if I could take her away from Somerled, she and I were bound to be happy together forever after.

Mrs. Bal explained that she was later than usual because she had not had a good night, and her chief maid, in reality a trained nurse, had been giving her electric ma.s.sage.

”Now I feel equal,” she added, ”to tackling the world, the flesh, _et le diable_. Mrs. West is the world. Morgan Bennett's the _flesh_(he weighs two hundred pounds!) and--I shall be the devil. I always am at a rehearsal. But the mood shan't come on while I'm with your sister. Now I must go and get dressed. I'll not be fifteen minutes. Really! You don't know what I can do in the flying line, when I choose. You may stay and amuse--my little sister.”