Part 29 (1/2)
”Where did Edith go?” she asked, curiously.
”Edith?” he repeated, opening his eyes blankly. ”Is she gone?”
Sibyl got up and stood in the doorway. She leaned against the casing, still tapping her chin with the brooch. Her eyes were dilating; she was suddenly at high tension, and her expression had become one of sharp excitement. She listened intently.
When the record was spun out she could hear Sheridan rumbling in the library, during the ensuing silence, and Roscoe's voice, querulous and husky: ”I won't say anything at all. I tell you, you might just as well let me alone!”
But there were other sounds: a rustling and murmur, whispering, low protesting cadences in a male voice. And as Mrs. Sheridan started another record, a sudden, vital resolve leaped like fire in the eyes of Sibyl. She walked down the hall and straight into the smoking-room.
Lamhorn and Edith both sprang to their feet, separating. Edith became instantly deathly white with a rage that set her shaking from head to foot, and Lamhorn stuttered as he tried to speak.
But Edith's shaking was not so violent as Sibyl's, nor was her face so white. At sight of them and of their embrace, all possible consequences became nothing to Sibyl. She courtesied, holding up her skirts and contorting her lips to the semblance of a smile.
”Sit just as you were--both of you!” she said. And then to Edith: ”Did you tell my husband I had been telephoning to Lamhorn?”
”You march out of here!” said Edith, fiercely. ”March straight out of here!”
Sibyl leveled a forefinger at Lamhorn.
”Did you tell her I'd been telephoning you I wanted you to come?”
”Oh, good G.o.d!” Lamhorn said. ”Hus.h.!.+”
”You knew she'd tell my husband, DIDN'T you?” she cried. ”You knew that!”
”HUs.h.!.+” he begged, panic-stricken.
”That was a MANLY thing to do! Oh, it was like a gentleman! You wouldn't come--you wouldn't even come for five minutes to hear what I had to say!
You were TIRED of what I had to say! You'd heard it all a thousand times before, and you wouldn't come! No! No! NO!” she stormed. ”You wouldn't even come for five minutes, but you could tell that little cat! And SHE told my husband! You're a MAN!”
Edith saw in a flash that the consequences of battle would be ruinous to Sibyl, and the furious girl needed no further temptation to give way to her feelings. ”Get out of this house!” she shrieked. ”This is my father's house. Don't you dare speak to Robert like that!”
”No! No! I mustn't SPEAK--”
”Don't you DARE!”
Edith and Sibyl began to scream insults at each other simultaneously, fronting each other, their furious faces close. Their voices shrilled and rose and cracked--they screeched. They could be heard over the noise of the phonograph, which was playing a bra.s.s-band selection. They could be heard all over the house. They were heard in the kitchen; they could have been heard in the cellar. Neither of them cared for that.
”You told my husband!” screamed Sibyl, bringing her face still closer to Edith's. ”You told my husband! This man put THAT in your hands to strike me with! HE did!”
”I'll tell your husband again! I'll tell him everything I know! It's TIME your husband--”
They were swept asunder by a bandaged hand. ”Do you want the neighbors in?” Sheridan thundered.
There fell a shocking silence. Frenzied Sibyl saw her husband and his mother in the doorway, and she understood what she had done. She moved slowly toward the door; then suddenly she began to run. She ran into the hall, and through it, and out of the house. Roscoe followed her heavily, his eyes on the ground.
”NOW THEN!” said Sheridan to Lamhorn.
The words were indefinite, but the voice was not. Neither was the vicious gesture of the bandaged hand, which concluded its...o...b..t in the direction of the door in a manner sufficient for the swift dispersal of George and Jackson and several female servants who hovered behind Mrs.
Sheridan. They fled lightly.
”Papa, papa!” wailed Mrs. Sheridan. ”Look at your hand! You'd oughtn't to been so rough with Edie; you hurt your hand on her shoulder. Look!”