Part 19 (2/2)
She had never seen him so eager.
She hesitated a bare second. ”I will. Yes, I will be very glad to,” but lifting her eyes to his: ”Are you so sure that one of those amulet trays has an empty s.p.a.ce?”
”It had when I last saw it.” His voice was unreadable.
”But that is months ago; perhaps you will think differently when you see it Wednesday evening.”
There was a flash over his face, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He drew nearer to her as if about to speak, then apparently reconsidered the intention. ”I really must not keep you longer,” he picked up his hat. ”Of course, there are a number of matters to be discussed, but they can wait. We will reserve them for Wednesday evening. Good-by.” He held out his hand. She placed hers in it.
”Good-by,” she returned.
CHAPTER XX
THE MAGIC WORD
”Maud,” said Dita, walking in upon that young woman, a package of letters in her hand, ”a lot of things are happening. Here is a letter, among other things, from Mrs. Wilstead. She says that she is just back from California, and that she needs stacks and stacks of new clothes, and wants our designs. It will be fun dressing her. She is so extremely good looking.”
Maud stirred restlessly, frowned, bit her lip, but did not speak.
”Just back from California,” went on Dita. ”I wonder--I wonder, Maud, if she could possibly have come on with Cresswell?”
”Very probably,” said Maud. ”In fact, I think nothing could be more likely.”
”Why, what do you mean by speaking so mysteriously?” Dita widened her eyes. ”Suppose they had? Nothing, after all, could be more natural.”
”Nothing, I suppose.” Maud was trying hard to be non-committal. ”But let her go to some one else. If we take any more people, we shan't get away this summer. We have more on our hands now than we can manage. Yes, let her go to some one else.”
”But, Maud,” Dita hesitated, ”I really think we should refuse some one else and take her. She is an old friend.”
”Old fiddlesticks!” cried Maud impatiently.
”Maud! What is the matter with you? A touch of spring fever? Really, I think we must consider her.”
”But if I ask you not, Dita”--there were almost tears in Maud's voice.
”But why should you ask me not? This is too bewildering.”
”Ah, well,” Maud spoke now with the calmness of despair, ”since you force me to tell you, I ask you not because Mrs. Wilstead has been constantly with Mr. Hepworth in the West this winter, and the current gossip is that he is only waiting for a divorce to be arranged between you and himself, to marry her.”
There was silence for a moment on Dita's part. Her eyes were downcast, mechanically she sorted the letters in her hand. ”Then what of the talk about Fuschia Fleming and himself?”
”Oh, they say that she took a back seat when Alice Wilstead appeared on the scene. But really, Dita, this move on Alice's part makes me furious.
The idea of her being guilty of such wretchedly bad taste. I have always liked her, been really fond of her, in fact, but this cra.s.s exhibition of bad breeding disgusts me. I dare say that she doesn't care so long as she gets results; that is, the benefit of your taste and skill to enhance her waning beauty; but look at the position it is going to place you in, Dita. For number one to design the trousseau for number two is really too absurd. It simply goes beyond all belief. Dita, you must, indeed you must, write her the curtest, coldest of polite notes and tell her that we are entirely too busy to consider her.”
”Very well. I'll humor you so far,” returned Perdita. ”What is it?”
turning to a maid who entered with a visiting card. ”Ah, Eugene! I asked him to come this morning. I particularly wanted to see him and I don't want you present. There, don't get that stony look of despair on your face, Maudie; think how good I have been all winter, only seeing Eugene once in a blue moon, and then in your company.”
<script>