Part 12 (1/2)

”Beware of calamity!” said Kindelon. And his voice was so odd a blending of the jocose and serious that she could ill guess whether he were in earnest or not.

VIII.

Pauline now began in excellent earnest the preparations for embarking upon her somewhat quaint enterprise. During the next three or four days she saw a good deal of Kindelon. They visited together the little editorial sanctum in Spruce Street, where Mrs. Dares sat dictating some of her inexhaustible ”copy” to a pale and rather jaded-looking female amanuensis. The lady received her visitors with a most courteous hospitality. Pauline had a sense of shocking idleness as she looked at the great c.u.mbrous writing-desk covered with ink-stains, files or clippings of newspapers, and long ribbon-like rolls of ”proof.” Her own fine garments seemed to crackle ostentatiously beside the noiseless folds of Mrs. Dares's work-day cashmere.

”We shall not take up much of your valuable time,” she said to the large-eyed, serious little lady. ”We have called princ.i.p.ally to ask a favor of you, and I hope you will not think it a presumptuous request.”

”I hope it is presumptuous,” said Mrs. Dares, ”for that, provided I can grant it at all, will make it so much pleasanter to grant.”

”You may be sure,” cried Kindelon gayly to Pauline, ”that you have made a complete conquest of Mrs. Dares. She is usually quite miserly with her compliments. She puts me on the wretched allowance of one a year.”

”Perhaps you don't deserve a more liberal income,” said Pauline. Then she re-addressed Mrs. Dares. ”I want to ask you,” she proceeded, with a shy kind of venture in her tone, ”if you will kindly loan me your visiting-book for a little while.”

”My visiting-book?” murmured Mrs. Dares. Then she slowly shook her head, while the pale girl at the desk knitted her brows perplexedly, as though she had encountered some tantalizing foreign word. ”I would gladly lend it if I had one,” Mrs. Dares went on; ”but I possess no such article.”

”Good gracious!” exclaimed Pauline, with an involuntary surprise that instantly afterward she regretted as uncivil. ”You _have_ none!”

But Mrs. Dares did not seem to detect the least incivility in Pauline's amazement.

”No, my dear Mrs. Varick, I have no need of a visiting-book, for I have no time to visit.”

”But you surely have some sort of list, have you not?” now inquired Kindelon.

Mrs. Dares lightly touched her forehead. ”Only here in my memory,” she said, ”and that is decidedly an imperfect list. My guests understand that to be invited to one of my evenings is to be invited to all. I suppose that in the fas.h.i.+onable world,” she proceeded, fixing her great dark eyes on Pauline, ”it is wholly different. There, matters of this sort are managed with much ceremony, no doubt.”

”With much trivial ceremony,” said Pauline. ”A little sc.r.a.p of pasteboard there represents an individuality--and in just as efficient manner as if it were truly the person represented. To be in society, as it is called, is to receive a perpetual shower of cards. I strongly doubt if many people ever care to meet in a truly social way those whose company they pretend to solicit. There are few more perfect mockeries in that most false and mocking life, than the ordinary visit of etiquette.”

Pauline here gave a little meaning smile as she briefly paused. ”But I suppose you will understand, Mrs. Dares,” she continued, ”that I regret your having no regular list. I wanted to borrow it--and with what purpose I am sure you can readily imagine.”

”Yes,” was the reply. ”My daughter Cora shall prepare you one, however.

She has an admirable memory. If she fails in the matter of addresses, there is the directory as a help, you know. And so your idea about the _salon_ is unchanged?”

”It is unalterable,” said Pauline, with a laugh. ”But I hate so to trouble your daughter.”

”She will not think it any trouble,” said Kindelon quickly.

Pauline looked at him with a slight elevation of the brows. ”You speak confidently for Miss Cora,” she said.

Kindelon lifted one hand, and waved it a trifle embarra.s.sedly. ”Oh, I have always found her so accommodating,” he answered.

”Yes, Cora is always glad to please those whom she likes,” said Mrs.

Dares....

A little later Pauline and Kindelon took leave of their hostess. They had been driven to Spruce Street in the carriage of the former, and as they quitted the huge building in which Mrs. Dares's tiny sanctum was situated, Kindelon said to his companion: ”You shall return home at once?”

Pauline gave a careless laugh. She looked about her at all the commercial hurry and bustle of the placarded, vehicle-thronged street.

”I have nowhere else to go just at present,” she said. ”Not that I should not like to stay down town, as you call it, a little longer. The noise and activity please me.... Oh, by the way,” she added, ”did you not say that you must repair to your office?”