Part 41 (1/2)
”Aw--aw, Del darlin'--honest, I--I don't know what to say, only it--only--it ain't like she was your _real_ mother, Del darlin'. You can't be hard hit over a blind old dame that used to make it hot as sixty for you.”
”Poor old soul--she lived like a rat and--died like one, I guess.”
”With you sending her money all the time--nixy!”
”Like a rat! Poor old maw.”
Della's voice was far removed, like one who speaks through the film of a trance.
”When my old dame died I felt bad, too, but Gawd knows she wasn't peaches and cream to have around the house. And look, darlin'--Cottie's comin' now--look--Cottie's comin'!”
”Cottie--Cottie--comin'?”
”Sure she is--see, read, honey--'Am ready.'”
”Oh, Gawd, Ysobel, now that it's come I--I'm scared--she--she's such a kid--she--Ysobel--I--I'm scared--I--”
”'Sh-h-h. There he is knockin', Del. Try and smile, hon'. You know how sore a long face makes him. Maybe you won't have to go to-night, now--smile, darlin'--smile! Come in!”
The door opened with a fling, and enter Mr. Hy Myers, an unlighted cigar at a sharp oblique in one corner of his mouth, hat slightly askew, and a full-length overcoat flung open to reveal a mink lining and studded s.h.i.+rt-front.
”Gad,” he said, dallying backward on his heels, his thumbs in the arm-circles of his waistcoat, and regarding the s.h.i.+ning silver figure--”Gad, girl, you're all right.”
Della drew back against the dressing-table and twirled the rings on her fingers.
”I--I got bad news, Hy. I can't go to-night. Here, read for yourself.”
He reached for the paper, pa.s.sing Ysobel as if she belonged to the trappings of the room.
”I--I can't--go to-night, Hy.”
He read with the sharp eyes of a gray hawk of the world, and drew his coat together in a gesture of b.u.t.toning up.
”Don't pull any of that stuff on me, Beauty. Just because the old devil you've been tellin' me about--”
”Oh--you--you--”
”Them ain't real tears--you'd be laughin' in your sleeve if you had any on. Come on; step lively, Beauty. I ain't givin' this blow-out to be made a fool out of. Give her a daub of color there, Du Prez.”
”Hy! She was my stepmother, and--”
”Come, Beauty, what you actin' up for? Ain't that doll you've been piping about all these months comin' now that the old woman is out of the way? Bring her on and lemme have a look at her. If she's in your cla.s.s, lemme look her over.”
”Gimme--a minute, Hy. I--I just wanna send--a wire.”
”Sure; tell her to come on. I'll send it for you. I'll look her over, and--”
”No--no! Let Ysobel send it. You do it, Ysobel. Here, gimme your pen, Hy.”
She wrote with her breath half a moan in her throat, and her bosom heaving and flas.h.i.+ng the diamond heart.