Part 4 (2/2)
Taking an arm of each, he swept them toward a reception-room from which issued noisy laughter.
”Awfully good of you to come, Miss Knight. I hope you'll find my friends agreeable and enjoy yourself.”
Perhaps twenty men in evening dress and as many elaborately gowned young women were gossiping and smoking as the last comers appeared. Some one raised a vigorous complaint at the host's tardiness, but Hammon laughed a rejoinder, then gave a signal, whereupon folding-doors at the end of the room were thrown back.
From within an orchestra struck up a popular rag-time air, and those nearest the banquet-hall moved toward it. A girl whom Lorelei recognized as a fellow-member of the Revue danced up to her escort with arms extended, and the two turkey-trotted into the larger room.
Hammon was introducing two of his friends--one a languid, middle- aged man who was curled up in a deep chair with a cigarette between his fingers; the other a large-featured person with a rumbling voice. The men had been arguing earnestly, oblivious of the confusion around them; but now the former dropped his cigarette, uncoiled his long form, and, rising, bowed courteously.
His appearance as he faced Lorelei was prepossessing, and she breathed a thanksgiving as she took his arm.
Hammon clapped the other gentleman upon the shoulder, crying: ”The rail market will take care of itself until to-morrow, Hannibal.
What is more to the point, I saw your supper partner flirting with 'Handsome Dan' Avery. Better find her quick.”
Lorelei recognized the deep-voiced man as Hannibal C. Wharton, one of the dominant figures in the Steel Syndicate; she knew him instantly from his newspaper pictures. The man beside her, however, was a stranger, and she raised her eyes to his with some curiosity. He was studying her with manifest admiration, despite the fact that his lean features were cast in a sardonic mold.
”It is a pleasure to meet a celebrity like you, Miss Knight,” he murmured. ”All New York is at your feet, I understand. I'm deeply indebted to Hammon. Blessings on such a host!”
”Oh, don't be hasty. You may dislike me furiously before the evening is over. He does things in a magnificent way, doesn't he?
I'm sure this is going to be a splendid party.”
As they entered the banquet-hall she gave a little cry of pleasure, for it was evident that Hammon, noted as he was for a lavish expenditure, had outdone himself this time. The whole room had been transformed into a bower of roses, great, climbing bushes, heavy with blooms; ma.s.ses of cool, green ivy hid the walls from floor to ceiling and were supported upon cunningly wrought trellises through which hidden lights glowed softly. In certain nooks gleamed marble statuettes so placed as to heighten the effect of s.p.a.ce and to carry out the idea of a Roman garden.
The table, a horseshoe of silver and white, of glittering plate and sparkling cut-gla.s.s, faced a rustic stage which occupied one end of the room; occupying the inner arc of the half-circle was a wide but shallow stone fountain, upon the surface of which floated large-leaved Egyptian pond-lilies. Fat-bellied goldfish with filmy fins, and tails like iridescent wedding trains, propelled themselves indolently about. Two dimpled cupids strained at a marble cornucopia, out of which trickled a stream of water, its whisper drowned now by the noisy admiration of the guests.
But the surprising feature of the decorating scheme was not apparent at first glance. Through the bewildering riot of greenery had been woven an almost invisible netting, and the s.p.a.ce behind formed a prison for birds and b.u.t.terflies. Where they had come from or at what expense they had been procured it was impossible to conceive. But, disturbed by the commotion, the feathered creatures twittered and fluttered against the netting in a panic which drew attention to them even if it did not wholly convey the illusion of a woodland scene. As for the b.u.t.terflies, no artificial light could deceive them, and they clung with closed wings to leaves and branches, only now and then displaying their full glory in a sleepy protest. There were scores, hundreds of them, and the diners pa.s.sed in review of the spectacle like country visitors before the gla.s.s tanks of the Aquarium. A strident shriek sounded as a gorgeously caparisoned peac.o.c.k preened himself; others were discovered here and there, brilliant- hued specimens, voicing shrill indignation.
”How--BEAUTIFUL!” gasped Lorelei, when she had taken in the whole scene. ”But--the poor little things are frightened.” She looked up to find her companion staring in Hammon's direction with an expression of peculiar, derisive amus.e.m.e.nt.
Hammon was the center of an admiring group; congratulations were being hurled at him from every quarter. At his side was Lilas Lynn, very dark, very striking, very expensively gowned, and elaborately bejeweled. The room was dinning with the strains of an invisible orchestra and the vocal uproar; topping the confusion came shrieks from the excitable peac.o.c.ks; the wild birds twittered and beat themselves affrightedly against the netting.
Becoming conscious of Lorelei's gaze, her escort looked down, showing his teeth in a grin that was not of pleasure.
”You like it?” he asked.
”It's beautiful, but--the extravagance is almost criminal.”
”Don't tell me how many starving newsboys or how many poor families the cost of this supper would support for a year. I hate poor people. I like to see 'em starve. If you fed them this year they'd starve next, so--what's the difference? Nevertheless, Jarvis HAS surprised me.” He paused, and his eyes, as he stared again at the steel magnate, were mocking. ”You'll admit it was a dazzling idea--coming from a rolling-mill boss. Now for the ortolans and the humming-bird tongues. No doubt there's a pearl in every wine-cup. Prepare to have your palate tickled with a feather when your appet.i.te flags.”
”That's what the Romans did, isn't it?”
”Ah, you are a student as well as an artist, Miss Knight.”
”I thought you were going to be pleasant, but you're not, are you?” Lorelei was smiling fixedly.
”No, quite the opposite. Thank G.o.d, I'm a dyspeptic.”
”Then why did you come here?”
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