Part 21 (1/2)

Anger gave way to chill, and chill to utter heartsickness. The cause of the change was unimportant, after all; it was the change itself that was significant. Norma's head ached, her heart was like lead. She had been thinking, all the way down in the car--all to-day--that she would meet him to-night; that they would talk. Now what? Was this endless evening to drag away on his terms, and were they to return to Newport to-morrow, with only the memory of that cool farewell to feed Norma's starving, starving soul?

”Chris couldn't stay and have dinner,” Mrs. Melrose presently was regretting, ”but, after all, perhaps it's cooler up here than anywhere, and I am so tired that I'm not going to change! You'll just have to stand me as I am.”

And the tired, heat-flushed, wrinkled old face, under its fringe of gray hair, smiled confidently at Norma. The girl smiled affectionately back.

Five o'clock. Six o'clock. It was almost seven when Norma came forth from a cold bath, and supervised the serving of the little meal. She merely played with her own food, and the old lady was hardly more hungry.

”Oh, no, Aunt Marianna! I think that Leslie was just terribly nervous, after Patricia was born. But I think now, especially when they're back in their own house, they'll be perfectly happy. No reason in the world why they shouldn't be,” Norma heard herself saying. So they had been talking of Acton and Leslie, she thought. Leslie was spoiled, and Acton was extravagant, and the united families had been just a little worried about their att.i.tudes toward each other. Mrs. Melrose was sure that Norma was right, and rambled along the same topic for some time. Then Norma realized that they had somehow gotten around to Theodore, Leslie's father. This subject was always good for half hours together, she could safely ramble a little herself. The deadly weight fell upon her spirit again. What had been the matter with Chris?

At nine o'clock her tired old companion began preparations for bed, and Norma, catching up some magazines, went into her own room. She could hear Regina and Mrs. Melrose murmuring together, the running of water, the opening and shutting of bureau drawers.

Norma went to her open window, leaned out into the warm and brilliant night. There was a hot moon, moving between clouds that promised, at last, a break in the binding heat. Down the Avenue below her omnibuses wheeled and rumbled, omnibuses whose upper seats were packed with thinly clad pa.s.sengers, but otherwise there was little life and movement abroad. A searchlight fanned the sky, fell and wavered upward again. A hurdy-gurdy, in the side street, poured forth the notes of the ”Ma.r.s.eillaise.”

Suddenly, and almost without volition, the girl s.n.a.t.c.hed the telephone, and murmured a number. Thought and senses seemed suspended while she waited.

”Is this the Metropolitan Club? Is Mr. Christopher Liggett there?... If you will, please. Thank you. Say that it is a lady,” said Norma, in a hurried and feverish voice. The operator would announce presently, of course, that Mr. Liggett was not there. The chance that he was there was so remote----

”Chris!” she breathed, all the tension and doubt dropping from her like a garment at the sound of his quiet tones. ”Chris--this is Norma!”

A pause. Her soul died within her.

”What is it?” Chris asked presently, in a repressed voice.

”Well--but were you playing cards?”

”No.”

”You've had your dinner, Chris?”

”No. Yes, I had dinner, of course. I dined with Aunt Marianna--no, that was lunch! I dined here.”

”Chris,” Norma faltered, speaking quickly as her courage ebbed, ”I didn't want to interrupt you, but you seemed so--so different, this afternoon. And I didn't want to have you cross at me; and I wondered--I've been wondering ever since--if I have done something that made you angry--that was stupid and--and----”

She stopped. The forbidding silence on his part was like a wall that crossed her path, was like a veil that blinded and choked her.

”Not at all,” he said, quickly. ”Where did you get that idea?...

h.e.l.lo--h.e.l.lo--are you there, Norma?” he added, when on her part in turn there was a blank silence.

For Norma, strangled by an uprising of tears as sudden as it was unexpected and overwhelming, could make no audible answer. Why she should be crying she could not clearly think, but she was bathed in tears, and her heart was heavy with unspeakable desolation.

”Norma!” she heard him say, urgently. ”What is it? Norma----?”

”Nothing!” she managed to utter, in a voice that stemmed the flood for only a second.

”Norma,” Chris said, simply, ”I am coming out. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes. I want to see you!”

Both telephones clicked, and Norma found herself sitting blankly in the sudden silence of the room, her brain filled with a confusion of shamed and doubting and fearful thoughts, and her heart flooded with joy.