Part 21 (1/2)

To accommodate Miss Orella was something--all the boys liked Miss Orella. They speculated among themselves on her increasing youth and good looks, and even exchanged sagacious theories as to the particular acting cause. But when they found that Mr. d.y.k.eman's visit was to make room for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they were more than pleased.

All the unexpressed ideals of masculine youth seemed centered in this palely graceful lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate hands, the subtle sympathy of manner, the nameless, quiet charm of dress.

Young Burns became her slave on sight, Lawson and Peters fell on the second day; not one held out beyond the third. Even Susie's attractions paled, her very youth became a disadvantage; she lacked that large considering tenderness.

”Fact is,” Mr. Peters informed his friends rather suddenly, ”young women are selfish. Naturally, of course. It takes some experience to--well, to understand a fellow.” They all agreed with him.

Mr. d.y.k.eman, quiet and reserved as always, was gravely polite to the newcomer, and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making observations.

Occasionally he paid some court to her, at which times she was cold to him; and again he devoted himself to the other ladies with his impressive air, as of one bowing low and sweeping the floor with a plumed hat.

Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of fact, no sign of plumage, and his bows were of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry was sweeping and impressive, none the less. If he remained too far away Mrs. St. Cloud would draw him to her circle, which consisted of all the other gentlemen.

There were two exceptions. Mr. James Saunders had reached the stage where any woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, and Morton was by this time so deeply devoted to Vivian that he probably would not have wavered even if left alone. He was not wholly a free agent, however.

Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when something must be done. Her mysterious absent husband had mysteriously and absently died, and still she never breathed a word against him. But the Bible Cla.s.s in Bainville furnished no satisfactory material for further hopes, the place of her earlier dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, and the West had called her.

Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. d.y.k.eman's room, and judging from the number of his shoe-trees and the quality of his remaining toilet articles that he might be considered ”suitable,” she decided to remain in the half-way house for a season. So settled, why, for a thousand reasons one must keep one's hand in.

There were men in plenty, from twenty year old Archie to the uncertain decades of Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned that gentleman indirectly as to his age, drawing from him astounding memories of the previous century.

When confronted with historic proof that the events he described were over a hundred years pa.s.sed, he would apologize, admitting that he had no memory for dates. She owned one day, with gentle candor, to being thirty-three.

”That must seem quite old to a man like you, Mr. Skee. I feel very old sometimes!” She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her filmy scarf around her shoulders.

”Your memory must be worse than mine, ma'am,” he replied, ”and work the same way. You've sure got ten or twenty years added on superfluous! Now me!” He shook his head; ”I don't remember when I was born at all. And losin' my folks so young, _and_ the family Bible--I don't expect I ever shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven.”

This being palpably impossible, and as the only local incidents he could recall in his youth were quite dateless adventures among the Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee should have interested her at all was difficult to say, unless it was the appeal to his uncertainty--he was at least a game fish, if not edible.

Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian were far the most attractive, wherefore Mrs. St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging frankness, fairly cast Mr. Saunders in Susie's arms, and vice versa, as opportunity occurred.

Morton she rather snubbed, treated him as a mere boy, told tales of his childhood that were in no way complimentary--so that he fled from her.

With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence to a great degree.

With some inquiry and more intuition she discovered what it was that had chilled the girl's affection for her.

”I don't wonder, my dear child,” she said; ”I never told you of that--I never speak of it to anyone.... It was one of the--” she s.h.i.+vered slightly--”darkest griefs of a very dark time.... He was a beautiful boy.... I never _dreamed_----”

The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes till they shone like s.h.i.+mmering stars.

”Heaven send no such tragedy may ever come into your life, dear!”

She reached a tender hand to clasp the girl's. ”I am so glad of your happiness!”

Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, she was not happy enough to honestly accept sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook her att.i.tude, or seemed to.

”I suppose you still blame me. Many people did. I often blame myself.

One cannot be _too_ careful. It's a terrible responsibility, Vivian--to have a man love you.”

The girl's face grew even more somber. That was one thing which was troubling her.