Part 30 (1/2)

”Yes, I think I do, Mrs. Thayer; and I will try--so hard!” She hesitated, then asked abruptly, ”Who is Mr. Donald Estey, please?”

There was an odd something in Mrs. Thayer's laugh as she answered.

”And why, pray, do you single him out?”

”Because of something--different in your voice, when you said his name.”

Mrs. Thayer laughed again.

”That's more cleverly put than you know, child,” she shrugged. ”I never thought of it before, but I fancy we all do say Mr. Donald Estey's name--with a difference.”

”Is he so very important, then?”

”In his own estimation--yes! There! I was wrong to say that, Helen, and you must forget it. Mr. Donald Estey is a very wealthy, very capable, very delightful and brilliant young bachelor. He is a little spoiled, perhaps; but that's our fault and not his, I suspect, for he's petted and made of enough to turn any man's head. He's very entertaining. He knows something about everything. He can talk Egyptian scarabs with my brother, and Irish crochet with me, and then turn around and discuss politics with my husband, and quote poetry to Phillis Drew in the next breath. All this, of course, makes him a very popular man.”

”But he's a--a real gentleman, the kind that my husband would like?”

”Why, of--of course!” Mrs. Thayer frowned slightly; then, suddenly, she laughed. ”To tell the truth he's very like your husband, in some ways, I've heard my brother say--tastes, temperament, and so forth.”

An odd something leaped to Helen Denby's eyes.

”You mean, what _he_ likes, Burke likes?” she questioned.

”Why, y-yes; you might put it that way, I suppose. But never mind.

You'll see for yourself when you see him.”

”Yes, I'll see--when I see him.” Helen Denby nodded and relaxed in her seat. The odd something was still smouldering in her eyes.

”Then it's all settled, remember,” smiled Mrs. Thayer. ”You're not to run and hide now when somebody comes. You're to learn to meet people.

That's your next lesson.”

”My next lesson--my next lesson,” repeated Helen Denby, half under her breath. ”Oh, I hope I'll learn so much--in this next lesson! I won't run and hide now, indeed, I won't, Mrs. Thayer!”

And at the glorified earnestness of her face, Mrs. Thayer, watching, felt suddenly her own throat tighten convulsively.

In spite of her valiant promise, Helen Denby, a week later, did almost run and hide when the Gillespies, the first of Mrs. Thayer's guests, arrived. Held, however, by a stern something within her, she bravely stood her ground and forced herself to meet Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie and their daughters, Miss Alice and Miss Maud. It was not so difficult the next week when Mrs. Reynolds came, perhaps because of the pretty little Gladys, so near her own Betty's age.

Fully alive to her own shortcomings, however, embarra.s.sed, and distrustful of herself, Helen was careful never to push herself forward, never to take the initiative. And because she was so quiet and un.o.btrusive, her intense watchfulness, and slavish imitation of what she saw, pa.s.sed unnoticed. Gradually, as the days came and went, the tenseness of her concentration relaxed, and she began to move and speak with less studied caution. It was at this juncture that Mr. Donald Estey arrived. Instantly into her bearing sprang an entirely new, alert eagerness. But this, too, pa.s.sed unnoticed, for the change was not in herself alone. The entire household had made instant response to the presence of Mr. Donald Estey. The men sharpened their wits, and the women freshened their furbelows. Breakfast was served on the minute with never a vacant chair; and even the steps of the maids in the kitchen quickened.

Because Mr. Donald Estey was always surrounded by an admiring group, the fact that ”that quiet little Mrs. Darling” was almost invariably one of the group did not attract attention. It was Mr. Donald Estey himself, in fact, who first noticed it; and the reason that he noticed it was because once, when she was not there, he found himself looking for her eager face. He realized then that for some time he had been in the habit of finding his chief inspiration in a certain pair of wondrously beautiful blue eyes bent full upon himself.

Not that the encountering of admiring feminine eyes bent full upon him was a new experience to Mr. Donald Estey; but that these eyes were different. There was something strangely fascinating and compelling in their earnest gaze. It was on the day that he first missed them that he suddenly decided to cultivate their owner.

He began by asking casual questions of his fellow guests, but he could find out very little concerning the lady. She was a Mrs. Darling, a friend of their hostess (which he knew already). She was a widow, they believed, though they had never heard her husband mentioned. She was pleasant enough--but so shy and retiring! Charming face she had, though, and beautiful eyes. But did he not think she was--well, a little peculiar?

Mr. Donald Estey did not answer this, directly. He became, indeed, always very evasive when his fellow guests turned about and began to question him. Very soon, too, he ceased his own questioning. But that he had not lost his interest in Mrs. Darling was most unmistakably shown at once, for openly and systematically he began to seek her society--to the varying opinions (but unvarying interest) of the rest of the house party.

If Mr. Donald Estey had expected Mrs. Darling to be shy and coy at his advances, he found himself entirely mistaken. She welcomed him with a frank delight that was most flattering, at the same time most puzzling, owing to a certain elusive quality that he could not name.

Mr. Donald Estey thought that he knew women well. It pleased his fancy to think that he had his feminine friends nicely pigeonholed and labeled, and that he had but to pa.s.s an hour or two of intimate talk with any woman to be able at once to ticket her accurately. His first hour of intimate talk with Mrs. Darling, however, left him confused and baffled--but mightily interested: in the course of that one hour he had shelved her in almost every one of his pigeonholes, only to find at the end of it that she was still free and uncatalogued.