Part 19 (2/2)

He blurted the question point-blank, and Willa smiled in spite of herself.

”Tia Juana, you mean? Did Mr. Wiley say she had left her home? I never heard of her doing that before,” she remarked innocently enough.

”It seems she disappeared some time ago, and no one knows what happened to her. She must have been a queer old bird.”

”Why are you so interested in her?”

He started, blinking at the swift directness of the question.

”Oh, I was thinking what a hit she'd make telling fortunes at some of the charity bazaars, if she ever came up here. People are always so nutty about anything new and a genuine witch would be a sensation.”

”Tia Juana is not a witch and she doesn't tell fortunes. She is a little bit peculiar, perhaps, like many other very old people, but that is all.” Willa laughed lightly. ”Mr. Wiley must have been stringing you! What else did he tell you about Mexico?”

But Vernon's mind was apparently hazy on the subject of his friend's further reminiscences, and he left her at the door with ill-concealed alacrity. She knew that the conversation had not been uninspired, and his otherwise futile questions had served a useful purpose in forewarning her.

”You will go to the opera with us to-night?” It was more a query than a command which Mrs. Halstead addressed to her. ”We are going on afterward to the Judsons', but we can drop you at home if you don't care to accompany us.”

”Thank you, no,” Willa responded. ”If you don't mind I think I will stay quietly at home this evening, but I'll try to keep my engagements in future. I wish there were not quite so many of them!”

”That can be arranged,” Mrs. Halstead a.s.sured her stiffly. ”I wish to give you every opportunity to meet all the eligible people in our circle and then you must select your own friends.”

The truce between them was evidently to be an armed one, but it was a respite at least. Willa realized that her cousin would not soon forgive defeat at her hands, but her att.i.tude was more fortuitous than open war.

She had intended to write a long-delayed letter to Jim Baggott, but after the family departed and she settled herself at her desk, the words would not frame themselves in her thoughts. A spirit of unrest took possession of her, a sensation of suspense which did not lighten with the dragging minutes, and in despair she flung down her pen and wandered into the music-room.

Piano lessons had appeared to Willa to be a sheer waste of time and patience in this era of mechanism, and she had not responded with any degree of enthusiasm to Mrs. Halstead's suggestion made shortly after her arrival, but now she touched the keys wistfully. Oh, for one of Mestiza Bill's tinkley old tunes on the piano in the Blue Chip!

She was turning blindly away, when the phonograph in the corner caught her eye and on an idle impulse she started it. By chance, the record left on the machine had been that of the latest tango, and as she listened to the pulsing, languorous strains, Willa commenced half-unconsciously to sway in rhythm with its lilting harmony.

The next minute she was dancing, but not in the dull, mincing fas.h.i.+on in which she had so recently been coached. The music caught at her homesick heart-strings, the old familiar scent of blossoming gardenias was in her nostrils and she was out under a Mexican night. Her pulses leaped to the throbbing notes, and she flung herself sinuously into the measures of the tango, snapping her fingers in lieu of castanets.

All thought of her present environment had slipped away from her, but she was recalled sharply to herself when the music stopped and she halted, flushed and panting.

”Brava!” a cool, slightly mocking voice called from the doorway, and the soft pad of gloved hands sounded upon her startled ears. Whirling about, she found herself face to face with Starr Wiley.

”Brava!” he repeated. ”Charming, Miss Murdaugh! I would not have missed it for worlds!”

”How did you come here?” she stammered.

”By way of the front door, most conventionally, I a.s.sure you. I heard the phonograph and told Welsh not to announce me.” He shrugged, and drew off his glove. ”Aren't you going to greet me, Miss Murdaugh?”

There was a covert sneer in the repet.i.tion of her name, and Willa made no advance.

”My cousin is not at home.”

”I did not come to see your cousin. I came to renew my acquaintance and make my peace with you. Are you going to punish me still for my temerity in Limasito?”

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