A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill Part 21

Mr. Sequin was a thin, stooped man, prematurely old at fifty. The hara.s.sed, driven expression that was so habitual to his face had plowed furrows that no lighter mood could now erase. His present mood, however, was not a light one. He sat with his hand shading his eyes, and scowled gloomily at the tablecloth.

"I told you a month ago," he was saying, "that you'd have to cut some of the expenses on the new house. We've already gone twenty thousand over the original estimate. There isn't a month now that our accounts are not overdrawn. Nothing has been said directly, but it is known on the street. Nothing will be said, as long as it is understood that I am to have the management of the Dillingham estate at the general's death, but if this estrangement should continue between Margery and Lee Dillingham--"

"Now, Basil!" Mrs. Sequin cried dramatically, "don't for mercy's sake take a nervous-prostration patient seriously. Margery is nothing but a bunch of notions, and Cropsie Decker has gotten her all stirred up about the injustice that has been done to Don. I won't even let her talk to me about it, it's all so silly. What possible difference can it make who did the shooting? The boys are well out of the sc.r.a.pe and it's almost forgotten by this time. Young people who are engaged have to have something to quarrel over; this won't amount to a row of pins. I am going right on making preparations for an early spring wedding. By the way, you know the bow window in the drawing-room? Well, I am having it made four feet wider so they can be married there facing the loggia, like this!"

Mrs. Sequin's two plump fingers did duty for the bride and groom, but Mr. Sequin was not interested.

"I should not be surprised if Decker cabled Donald to come home. He's in a great state of indignation over the fact that the blame was put on Don. You see, it is all a fresh issue with them."

"I'd be perfectly furious with Don," declared Mrs. Sequin, "if he came back and got into a quarrel with Lee. Margery will be sure to take his part; she's always so silly about Don. If she were well enough I'd be tempted to rush the wedding through before Christmas. But then, we couldn't have it in the new house, and I have practically built that first floor for the wedding. Everything depends on our having it there."

"Everything depends on our having it somewhere!" said Mr. Sequin grimly.

"Mrs. Queerington's cook, madam, wishes to speak to you," announced the butler at the pantry door.

"Tell her to wait," said Mrs. Sequin without turning her head. "What did you decide about the decorator's estimates, Basil?"

"Decide? What time have I to be considering decorations? Why can't you attend to it?"

"Why, indeed? I only have to attend to the alterations on the bow window, look at the new sketches for the garage, have a shampoo and ma.s.sage, lunch at the Weldems', take Fanchonette to the veterinary, be fitted at three, and go to the Bartrums' at five. By all means, I'll attend to it. I'll give the order to Lefferan; he handles the most exclusive designs."

"That's what we want," said Mr. Sequin, rising; "the most exclusive and the most expensive. Our credit is good for a few months yet. Have the small car at the bank at 6:30. I will not be home for dinner."

Mrs. Sequin sighed as he slammed the front door. There was no use denying the fact that men were trying, even the best of them. Hadn't Cousin John Queerington, that paragon of perfection, toppled on his pedestal at the smile of an unsophisticated little country girl? And there was Basil, recognized as a veritable wizard of finance, waiting until the new house was almost completed, then getting panicky about the cost. And now Donald, whom she thought safely anch.o.r.ed on the other side of the world, threatening to come home at the most inopportune time and create no end of trouble!

"Excuse me, madam," said the butler, "but she says she ain't going to wait another minute."

"Jenkins!" Mrs. Sequin raised her brows disapprovingly. "Send that odious woman up to Miss Margery's room; I will see her there."

The room above the dining-room was one of those pink-and-white jumbles that convention prescribes for debutantes. Garlands of pink roses festooned the paper, tied at intervals by enormous pink bows. Pink bows and ruffles smothered the dresser and sewing table, and pink and white cushions filled the window seat. Cotillion favors, old dance cards, theater programs, were pinned to the heavy pink and white curtains that shut out the sunlight. Among the lace pillows of the bra.s.s bed lay a languid, pale-faced girl, who stared up at the rose-entwined ceiling, as a prisoner might stare at her bars.

"Close the door, Myrtella," Mrs. Sequin said as they entered. "I am mortally afraid of drafts. Good morning, Margery. Where is your blue hat? I told Miss Lady to send up for it, because I am going to take her to the Bartrums' this afternoon and I simply could not have her appear in that ridiculous little hat she wears all the time."

The girl in the bed turned a fretful face toward her mother:

"Why, Miss Lady promised to spend the afternoon with me. I've been looking forward to it for days."

"Yes, I know, dear, but I told her you weren't quite so well, and that she could come to-morrow. You see, she really can't afford to miss the Bartrums' tea; it's the first entertainment this fall and everybody will be there. I know you think Mrs. Bartrum a little gay, but you can't deny she runs that younger set."

Margery Sequin clasped her thin white hands tensely, and resumed her study of the vine-covered ceiling.

"Here's the hat," said Mrs. Sequin, handing a large hat box to Myrtella, then noting her offended expression she added by way of propitiation: "I don't know how they would get along without you at the Doctor's. I hear that the new mistress doesn't know a saucepan from a skillet."

"She ain't no fool," returned Myrtella instantly on the defensive.

"Of course not, just young and careless. I dare say she doesn't even order the groceries, does she?"

"No, mam."

"Nor plan for the meals?"

"No, mam."

"And you attend to everything just as if she weren't there? It's really too funny, isn't it, Margery? Tell Mrs. Queerington that I'll send the motor for her at five; and do see that she is properly hooked up."

Myrtella succeeded in getting herself and the box silently out of the room, but the butler pa.s.sing her on the back stairs was startled by a verbal shower that was not in the least intended for him. It was as if a watering cart had suddenly and unexpectedly turned on its supply regardless of its surroundings.

At five o'clock Miss Lady, very radiant and apparently in high spirits, presented herself at the Sequins'.

"May I come in just for a minute?" she asked at Margery's door. "I've brought you some chrysanthemums. Uncle Jimpson brought them in from Thornwood this morning. It's too bad you aren't so well."

Margery turned admiring eyes on the bright face above her.

"I'm no worse," she said, "just disappointed. I thought I was going to have you all to myself this afternoon."

"But I didn't know you could have me! I'll run in and tell your mother."

Mrs. Sequin, who was being insinuated into a very tight gown by the sheer physical prowess of her maid, exclaimed with satisfaction as Miss Lady entered:

"There, I knew it! The hat makes the costume. You are perfect! Now, remember the people I want you to be especially nice to, Mrs. Gibbs, Mrs. Marchmont--"

"The silly old woman that paints her face and wears the pearls like moth b.a.l.l.s? She drove around yesterday to tell me the name of her hairdresser. It's always the people that haven't any hair that want to have it dressed."

"Miss Lady! She is Mrs. Leslie Marchmont, the most sought after woman in town!"

"I don't care, her horses look as if they had been fed on corn stalks."

"But you mustn't say such things! You must cultivate discretion. If you want me to introduce you to the right people--"

"But they may not be the right people for me! Some of them are lovely, but I can't stand the affected ones, nor the ones that patronize me."

"But they won't patronize you if you are a little more reserved. There's no earthly reason for your telling them that you keep only one servant, and saying that you come from Billy-goat Hill. It's a horrid name given our beautiful hillside, by horrid people. You see, you really must cultivate more caution. You are,--what shall I say? too frank, too natural."

Miss Lady laughed. "I haven't the least idea how to go about being unnatural, but, thank heaven, I don't have to learn to-day! Margery is feeling better and is going to let me stay with her."

"That's absurd! You are all ready to go, and I want Mrs. Bartrum to see you for the first time just as you look now. Where are your gloves?"

"I forgot them, but it doesn't matter, I'm not going."

"I'll send Jenkins for them at once."

Miss Lady's cheek flushed and she looked at Mrs. Sequin in perplexity, then her brow cleared.

"You are afraid I'll stay too long and wear Margery out? I promise to go the minute she looks tired. You can trust her with me, can't you?"

"But she has her nurse, there's no earthly reason--"

"Except that she wants me to stay. You'll feel happier, too, knowing that she isn't lonely."