Part 9 (1/2)
”You have bad news, Judge Kent?”
He made no answer, and she seized his arm.
”What is the dreadful news that distresses you?”
As he turned his eyes upon her, all their light and color seemed faded to a dull gla.s.siness, and his voice shook like a hysterical woman's.
”News--did you say? No--I have received no news. None whatever.”
”Then what ails you? I shall call Eglah.”
She turned, but he clutched her skirt.
”For G.o.d's sake, don't ever tell her! Why grieve the child? The truth is--” He caught his breath, and a sickly smile showed how his mouth trembled, as he swept his hand across his brow.
”You are sick?”
”Oh, yes--sick; that is it exactly. Sick--sick indeed. Some oysters I ate, and cheese; later I very foolishly drank ale.”
”Then, sir, you must go to bed, and Eglah will send an explanation of your unavoidable absence from the dinner.”
Upstairs a door was opened, and a sweet, girlish voice trilled two bars of a Venetian barcarolle.
Judge Kent threw out his arms appealingly.
”I must go to-night. For G.o.d's sake, don't let her know anything! Say nothing. I shall tell her I was a little faint from indigestion. Vile compound--oysters, ale, Roquefort! Promise me to hold your tongue; not for my sake, but hers. I am obliged to attend this dinner, and it would spoil her evening if she knew how deadly sick--I--really was a moment ago. Promise me.”
”Very well. I suppose you know best what concerns you most. I promise.”
”You are the only woman I ever knew upon whom I could rely to hold her tongue. Now, quick as you can, bring the decanter of brandy to my room.
Amuse the child with her frills and finery while I dress. I must have a little time.”
When she carried the brandy to his door, the hand that grasped it was icy, and the other tugged ineffectually at his white tie.
Humming her boat-song, Eglah trailed silken draperies down the winding stairs and into the library, where she courtesied low to Eliza and swept her train--like a peac.o.c.k's plumes--up to the grate, putting one slippered foot on the bra.s.s fender.
She was gowned in green crepe of an uncommon tint, that held mult.i.tudinous silvery lights in its crinkled texture, and when she moved they glistened and played hide and seek in the clinging folds. Around her fair, full throat a rope of emeralds coiled twice.
”Am I all right--ready for publication and criticism? The damp weather makes my hair so curly I can scarcely keep it in line. Ma-Lila, the clasp of my necklace feels a little rickety, so I must ask you to move it around in front, and cover it securely with this.”
She held out a diamond b.u.t.terfly, and Eliza fastened it in the gold-wire links of the emerald chain. As she settled the jewels in place, she stooped and kissed one lovely white shoulder.
”Solemn little mother! I know exactly what you are thinking. That I am as frivolous a creature as grandmother's heirloom b.u.t.terfly? You should not lose sight of the psychic symbolism of this much slandered and despised insect. Little white b.u.t.terflies whose wings are all powdered with s.h.i.+ning star-dust are the souls of babies----”
”Pagan nonsense that I won't listen to. Moreover, you ought to be ashamed to jest about your immortal soul as if it were yours exclusively--to play with as you would a ball.”
”You darling Puritan! If you do not unlace yours it surely will smother.
Really, I thought it was orthodox to believe that in the very last a.n.a.lysis and final adjustment of personal property one's own soul was one's solitary chattel that defied and survived the confiscation of death. Motherkin, don't scold! Kiss me good night, and help me with my cloak, so that I shall not muss all this lace jabot. Is not father ready?”
Eliza laid her long, white velvet cloak around her and tied the ribbons under her chin.