Part 22 (2/2)

The hostess advanced a step mechanically, Miss Mehitable followed close.

Geraldine gazed fascinated at the tall, regal woman, whose habitually formal manner took on an additional stiffness.

”This is Miss Melody, I believe.” Mrs. Barry held out her smooth, fair hand. ”I hear you have pa.s.sed through a very trying experience,” she said with cold courtesy. ”I am glad you are safe.”

The light went out of the girl's eager eyes. The color fled from her face. She had endured too many extremes of emotion in one day. Miss Mehitable extended her arms to her with a yearning smile. Geraldine glided to her and quietly fainted away on that kindly breast.

”Poor lamb, poor lamb,” murmured Miss Mehitable, and Ben, frowning, exclaimed: ”Here, let me take her!”

He gathered her up in his arms and carried her into the house and laid her on a divan, Miss Upton panting after his long strides and his mother deliberately bringing up the rear. Mrs. Barry knew just what to do and she did it, while Miss Upton wrung her hands above the rec.u.mbent white figure. When the long eyelashes flickered on the pallid cheek, Ben spoke commandingly: ”I'll take her upstairs. She must be put to bed.”

Miss Mehitable came to herself with a rush. ”Not here,” she said decidedly. ”If you'll let me have the car, Mrs. Barry, we'll be out of your way in five minutes.”

Ben looked at his mother, who was still cool and unexcited; and the expression on his face was a new one for her to meet.

”She isn't fit to be moved, Mother, and Miss Upton hasn't room. Miss Melody is exhausted. She has had a frightful experience,” he said sternly.

If he had appealed she might have been touched, but it is doubtful. The gra.s.s stains, the quaint shawl, the hair that was rippling down to the rug, were none of them part of her visions of a daughter-in-law, and, at any rate, Ben shouldn't look at her like that--at her! for the sake of a friendless waif whose existence he had not suspected one week ago.

Miss Upton, understanding the situation perfectly, saved the hostess the trouble of replying.

”It won't hurt her a bit to drive as far as my house after she's been caperin' all over the sky!” she exclaimed, seizing Geraldine's hands.

The girl heard the declaration and essayed to rise while her eyes fixed on the round face bending over her.

”I want to go with you,” she said.

”And you're going, my lamb,” returned Miss Mehitable.

”Certainly, you shall have the car,” said Mrs. Barry suavely.

She wished to send word to the chauffeur, she wished to give Geraldine tea, she was entirely polite and sufficiently solicitous, but her heir looked terrible things, and, bringing around the car, himself drove the guests to Miss Upton's Fancy Goods and Notions.

Geraldine declined his help to walk to the door of the shop. Miss Upton had her arm around her, and though the girl was pale she gave her rescuer a look full of grat.i.tude; and when he pressed her hand she answered the pressure and restored a portion of his equanimity.

”I never, never shall forget this happiest day of my life,” she said.

”And don't forget we are going to get Pete,” he responded eagerly, holding her hand close, ”and everything is going to come out right.”

”Yes”--she looked doubtful and frightened; ”but if you get Pete don't let your mother see him. She is--she couldn't bear it.”

”Don't judge her, Geraldine,” he begged. ”She is glorious. Ask Miss Upton. Just a little--a little shy at first, you know. Miss Upton, you explain, won't you?”

”Don't fret, Ben,” said Miss Mehitable. ”You're the best boy on earth, and I want to hear all about it, for I'm sure you did something wonderful to get her.”

”Yes, wonderful, Miss Upton!” echoed Geraldine, with another heart-warming smile at her deliverer whose own smile lessened and died as he walked back to his car. By the time he entered it he was frowning, thinking of his ”shy” mother.

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