Part 22 (2/2)
”No. No, thank you. I've got relatives here with me. I'm all right.”
She took a chair by the table, and began to play with the mirror, by turns blowing on it, and polis.h.i.+ng it against the folds of her dress.
He watched her in silence for a moment. It was plain that she was anxious to detain them until she felt certain that the child had left the block and was out of sight. He helped her plan. Standing between them, Balcome vaguely sensed that they had an understanding and resented it. His under lip pushed out belligerently.
”I wish you'd let me know if there is anything,” said the younger man, his tone conventionally polite.
”Yes. I'll--I'll write.” She controlled a sarcastic smile.
”In care of the Rectory,” he directed. ”Will you? I want to help you in any way I can. I mean it.”
Now Clare rose. ”Good-by,” she said pleasantly. ”I'm sorry I rushed out the way I did today. But--you understand.” She extended a hand.
”Of course,” he answered, scarcely touching the tips of her fingers.
”Yes.”
”I wish you the best of luck.” She bowed, and again to Balcome.
Balcome returned the bow sulkily. And turning his back as if to leave, gave a quick glance round in time to see her make the other a warning sign.
At this juncture, the hall door swung wide, and Tottie appeared, head high with suppressed excitement, and face alive with curiosity.
”Here's another caller, Miss Crosby,” she announced. At her back was Sue.
Clare retreated, frowning.
Sue, breathless from hurrying, and embarra.s.sed, halted, panting and smiling, in the doorway. ”Oh, dear! This dress never was meant for anything faster than a wedding-march!”--this with that characteristic look--the look of a child discovered in naughtiness, and entreating forgiveness.
”Say, ain't you pop'lar!” broke in Tottie, shaking her head at Clare in playful envy. And to Sue, ”Y' know, all my theatrical friends 're just crazy about her. They'll hate to see her go.”
”Go?” repeated Sue, sobering.
”Tottie!” cried Clare, angrily. ”Please! Never mind!” Peremptorily she pointed her to leave.
Tottie, having accomplished her purpose, grinned a good-natured a.s.sent.
”All right, dearie,”--once more she was playing the fine lady, for the edification of this new arrival so well worth impressing. ”I call this my rehearsal room,” she informed, with a polite t.i.tter. ”Pretty idea, ain't it? Well,”--with a sweeping bow all around--”make yourselves to home.” She went out, one jeweled hand raised ostentatiously to her back hair.
There was a moment's pause; then Sue held out an impulsive hand to the younger woman. ”Oh, you're not going to leave without seeing him,” she implored.
”Who do you mean?”--sullenly.
”Alan Farvel.”
Clare's eyes flashed. ”Does he know you came?”
”No.”
Clare turned to Wallace. ”Does your sister know my real name?” she asked.
His pale face worked in a spasm. He coughed and swallowed. ”N-n-no,”
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