Part 37 (1/2)

”Delightfully you,” he corrected her. ”Has the Professor or your husband read any of your stories?”

”No. They never read magazines. Jarvis saw the announcement of the prize story, and commented on the use of my name, but I threw him off the scent easily.”

”I don't see why you don't 'fess' up, now that the thing is an established success.”

”No, not yet. It's such a lovely secret. I want to wait for just the moment to spring it on them.”

”Couldn't you invite me in when that moment comes?”

”We'll see. I may invite the neighbours in, and crown myself with a laurel wreath.”

”I'd rely on your doing it in a novel way.”

”The surest way of being considered eccentric is just to be yourself. So few of us have the nerve.”

They talked late. He told her his plans and hopes for the magazine. He spoke of his people, of his past life, of his preparation for his work, and when the clock finally interrupted with twelve strokes, they arose, nearer friends than ever.

After Strong's departure Bambi wrote Jarvis to prepare him for the friendly visit:

”You'll remember Richard Strong, the brother of Maryland and the thirteen sisters? He came to spend the weekend with us, and expressed such disappointment at your absence that I gave him your address so he could look you up. Do be nice to him. I am sure you will like him when you get to know him. He is a fine, sensible fellow. He might find something for you to do on a magazine, if you wanted it. I did not speak to him about it, thinking you could do it best yourself, if you chose to. We had a pleasant two days' visit--much talk, tennis, drives, and more talk. It seemed to please and rest him, and we enjoyed him greatly.

The Professor has taken a great liking to him.

”By the time this reaches you, you will have read the new third act to your leading lady. I feel so confident that she is going to like it.

Wire me when she accepts. I can't wait for a letter. Good luck and congratulations, from both of us.

”BAMBI.”

”P.S. Will you come home after the contract is signed?”

She tripped down to the corner in the moonlight to mail the letter, congratulating herself that she had handled the report of Mr. Strong's visit with great tact. She recalled Jarvis's unexpected jealousy with a smile. Where was he at this moment? Tossing in a hot bedroom, or prowling the streets, as he seemed p.r.o.ne to do these nights?

She pondered the processes which made success so easy for some people--hers, for instance, a happy accident--while others, Jarvis-like, had to be tied to the wheel before the fickle G.o.ddess released them and crowned them. Was it all chance? Or was there some big plan back of it all? Was she spared this incarnation that she might strive harder in the next? Was Jarvis expiating for past immunity? It was all a tangle, surely, to our mortal eyes.

She gave it up, snapped off her light, and went to bed. A shaft of silver, like a prayer rug, lay across the floor.

”Lady Moon, s.h.i.+ne softly on my Knight of the Broken Lance,” she whispered, as she closed her eyes.

XVI

There was a faint idea in Jarvis's mind, as he staggered out of the all-night lunch, of swimming after the Mauretania to overtake the Parkes. Then his wandering senses collected themselves. He realized that the vessel did not sail until eleven, or thereabouts; that there were still several hours before that.

He hurried back to his room, dressed carefully, took the ma.n.u.script, and started out. It never occurred to him to telephone. Arrived at the house, the butler informed him that the Parkes had left in the motor at 8:30. No word had been left for Mr. Jocelyn.

Jarvis's jaw was set as he started downtown. He went to the wharf where the steamer lay, but there was only fifteen minutes left before her sailing. It was impossible to find out anything from anybody. So, with a sardonic calm, he watched the steamer slowly loosing from the wharf and making her stately exit.

On the way uptown he made up his mind as to the next move. He would begin action to-day on the Charles Frohman forces. He must also try to find a job. His resources were about exhausted.

At the Empire Theatre, where the king of managers rules, there was actually an elevator to carry one up to the throne room and its antechambers. At a window, in a sort of cas.h.i.+er's booth, a boy received Jarvis's ma.n.u.script, numbered and entered it on the file.