Part 7 (1/2)

She glanced around with a carelessness which ignored the hand that the boy shyly extended towards her.

”Oh, yes, very pleased,” she said vaguely. Then, with a resumption of her former manner, she turned back to Thayer. ”And I thought you promised to drop in for a cup of tea, some Thursday, Mr. Thayer.”

Beatrix was deaf to his answer. She had turned to Arlt who, scarlet with hurt and anger, stood alone in his corner by the piano.

”Mr. Arlt,” she said gayly; ”it is very warm here, and I know where they keep the frappe. Shall we leave my father here, and run off in search of some goodies? You ought to be hungry, after playing for two hours.

Come!”

And Arlt, surprised at the sudden winning intonations which had crept into her voice, dodged around the portly back of Mrs. Stanley and followed Beatrix out of the room. For the moment, the haughty woman had changed to a jovial, friendly girl, no more awe-inspiring than Katarina, in spite of her wonderful gown and the fluffy white thing in her hair; and the artist, in his turn, changed into a normal hungry boy, as he followed her away.

So absorbed were they in each other that they failed to see Bobby Dane who met them upon the threshold, on his way to join the group they had just left.

”Beg pardon, Thayer; but can I speak to you for a moment?” he said abruptly.

His uncle turned to Mrs. Stanley with old-fas.h.i.+oned pomposity.

”May I have the pleasure of taking you to the dining-room?” he asked.

”What is it, Dane?” Thayer asked, as soon as they were alone, for Bobby's face showed that something was amiss.

”It's Lorimer in the smoking-room. That beast of a Lloyd Avalons has opened a perfect bar in there, and--and Lorimer is making a bit of a cad of himself,” Bobby confessed reluctantly. ”I tried to get him away; but he wouldn't come, and I thought perhaps you could start him. It's not that he is drunk, only he is talking rather too much, and I want to get him off before Beatrix gets wind of it. You know girls--”

”I know,” Thayer a.s.sented gravely. ”I'll see what I can do with him.”

CHAPTER FIVE

”You musicians make me deadly weary,” Bobby proclaimed, from his favorite rostrum of the hearthrug.

”Is that the reason you are trying to sit on them, Bobby?” his cousin asked. ”You'll find an easy chair just as restful to you and a good deal more so to the musician.”

Bobby waved her remark aside.

”Don't interrupt me, Beatrix. I have things I wish to say.”

”Very likely; but it is barely possible that somebody else also may have things he wishes to say, and can't, because you talk so much.”

”Sally is busy eating bonbons, and Thayer would much better wait till I get through his indictment. He'll need all his voice to defend himself.”

Sally glanced up.

”Go on, Bobby,” she said encouragingly. ”The sooner it is over, the better.”

”Thank you. Then I have the floor. Thayer, I never believe in talking about people behind their backs, so I look you squarely in the eye and ask you if you ever realize that you don't amount to much, after all.”

”Who told you?”

”n.o.body. I evolved it.”