Part 52 (1/2)
”Come right in!” cried Papa Claude, flinging wide the door. ”We are just discussing plans, and need you to cast the deciding vote.”
”But I'm not dressed, Papa Claude!” expostulated Eleanor. ”I still have on my kimono.”
”A charming costume,” said Papa Claude--”one in which a whole nation appears in public. I leave it to my distinguished collaborator: could any toilet, however elaborate, be more becoming?”
Harold gave a light laugh as his glance rested with undisguised approval on the slender figure in its clinging silk garment, the rosy hues of which were reflected in the girl's flaming cheeks.
”Just stopped for a second, C. M.,” Harold said, avoiding her indignant eyes. ”I wanted to tell you about the New York press notices. They are simply superb! _Tribune_ has a column. The _Times_ and _Herald_ give us a headliner. And even the old _Sun_ says there are pa.s.sages in 'Phantom Love' that might have been written by Moliere!”
”Where are the papers?” cried Papa Claude, prancing with excitement.
”I gave mine to Estelle. You can get them downstairs at the news-stand.”
”I'll run down now--be back in a second.” And Papa Claude rushed impetuously from the room.
Eleanor and Harold stood facing each other where he had left them, he with an air of apologetic amus.e.m.e.nt, and she with an angry dignity that rested incongruously on her childish prettiness.
”Will you please go down and tell Mr. Pfingst that I am not coming to his party?” she asked, with the obvious intention of getting rid of him.
”Why aren't you?”
”Because I don't like him.”
”Neither do I. But what has that to do with it? Estelle Linton will take him off our hands.”
”I don't care for Miss Linton, either. If I had known----”
”Oh, come! Haven't we got past that?” scoffed Harold, sitting astride a chair and looking at her quizzically. ”n.o.body pays any attention to Estelle's numerous little affairs. I'd as soon think of criticizing a Watteau lady on an ivory fan!”
”You can probably catch Mr. Pfingst in the dining-room if you go down at once,” suggested Eleanor pointedly.
”But I've no intention of going down at once. Eleanor, why do you play with me like this? Can't you see that this can't go on? I've been patient, G.o.d knows. For two months I've done nothing but advance your interests, put you forward in every conceivable way. And what have I got?
The merest civility! Do you suppose it's pleasant for me to know that everybody in the company is whispering about my infatuation for you and your indifference to me? The maddening part of it is that I know perfectly well you are _not_ indifferent. You are in love with me. You always have been. You'd have married me last fall if some busybody hadn't filled your ears with scandal. Confess, wouldn't you?”
”Yes; but----”
”I knew it! And you are going to marry me now. You can do anything you want, have anything you want. I'll put you at the head of your own company; I'll take you over to London. I'll do anything under heaven but give you up.”
He rose suddenly and went toward her, catching her bare arm and trying to draw her toward him; but she struggled from his embrace.
”Let me go!” she cried furiously. ”If you don't leave the room instantly, I will! There's Papa Claude now. Let me pa.s.s!”
It was not Papa Claude, however, to whom she opened the door. It was Estelle Linton, smartly attired for the day's expedition, and exhibiting all the compensating charms with which she sought to atone for her lack of brains and morals. With a glance of sophisticated comprehension she took in the disordered room, the perturbed young people, the unfinished breakfast-tray; then she burst into a gay little laugh.
”Ten thousand pardons!” she cried, backing away from the door in a.s.sumed confusion. ”I shouldn't have called so early. I just ran in to bring you _Town Topics_. The most killing article about you, dear. By-by; I'll see you later!” And, kissing her hand to Eleanor, she flitted down the hall.
”Shall I go or will you?” Eleanor demanded of Harold.
She was standing in the open door, all the color fled from her face and her eyes blazing with anger.