Part 4 (1/2)
Bates became furious because of a malevolent gleam in Miss Gurney's eye as she looked at Dorcas.
”I'll go, Richard,--and I shall not only tell your aunt what I have seen, but I shall feel it my duty to acquaint Mrs Everett with the facts.”
”Don't you dare!” cried Dorcas, springing up, and facing the unpleasant faced one with uncontrollable indignation. ”What I do, I tell my mother myself,--I don't have the news carried to her by her enemy's spy!”
”Hoity-toity, miss, you're a chip off the old block, I see!”
”And you're a trustworthy soul, to be talking to me when you're forbidden to do so!”
The triumph in Dorcas' tone was quite as galling to Eliza Gurney as her own chagrin at having broken her word. But, once in the moil, she saw no reason for backing out, and proceeded to pick an open quarrel.
”I can explain my speech with you to Miss Prall's satisfaction,” she went on, acidly, ”and I'll inform you, Miss Everett, that you've spoiled Mr. Bates' life by this clandestine affair of yours. I happen to know that his uncle, Sir Herbert Binney, was just about to make him his heir, but he will change his mind when he hears of this escapade.”
”Oh, clear out, Eliza,” stormed Bates; ”you've given us enough of that drivel, now hook it! Hear me?”
Miss Gurney stared at him. ”Your companions.h.i.+p with this young woman has corrupted your good manners,” she began, quite undeterred by his wrath.
Whereupon Bates took her firmly by the shoulder, spun her round, and said, ”Go!” in such a tone that she fairly scurried away.
”I vanquished her,” he said, a little ruefully, ”but I'm afraid it's a frying pan and fire arrangement. She'll tell Aunt Let.i.tia, and either aunt or Eliza herself will go at once to your mother with the tale,----”
”Well, I'd really rather they'd be told. I had to tell mother,--for truly, Rick, I can't live in an atmosphere of deceit. I may be a crank or a craven, but much as I love you, I can't stand keeping it a secret.”
”I know it, dear, and I don't like it a bit better than you do, only to tell is to be separated,--at once, and maybe, forever.”
”No!” cried Dorcas, looking at his serious face. ”Not forever!”
”Yes; even you don't realize the lengths to which those two women will go. I hate to speak so of your mother, I hate to speak so of my aunt,--but I know they'll move out of town, one or both, and they'll go to the ends of the earth to keep us apart.”
”But they've always lived near each other,--for years, in the same building.”
”Yes; that was so they could quarrel and annoy and tantalize each other.
But now the necessity of separating us two will be their paramount motive, and you'll see;--they'll do it!”
”Then--then----”
”Then let's get married, and go off by ourselves? Darling, if we only could! And I'll go into the Buns, in a minute, if you say so. Much as I hate to give up my own work, I'd not hesitate, except for your sake----”
”No, I don't want to marry a bakery man! And, I've too much ambition for you to let you throw your talent away! Yet, we couldn't live on nothing a year! And, until your inventions are farther along, you can't realize anything on them.”
”Bless me, what a little business woman it is! Well, we've both common sense enough not to make fools of ourselves,--but oh, Dork, I do want you so! And if it were not for that foolish, ridiculous feud, we could be so happy!”
”It isn't exactly the feud,--I mean, of course it is that, but it's back of that,--it's the determined, never-give-up _natures_ of the two women.
I don't know which is more obstinate, mother or Miss Prall, but I know,--oh, Ricky, I know neither of them will ever surrender!”
”Of course they won't,--I know that, too. So, must we give up?”
”What choice have we? What alternative?”
”None.” Bates' face was blankly hopeless. ”But, Dork, dear, I can't live without you! Can't you look ahead to--to something?”