Eve to the Rescue Part 4

She started a little early for her work as she was curious to see Angelo in the broad light of day. It seemed so unbelievable that those bright eyes and smiling lips had been in the elevator with her many times a week for many months, and that she had never even seen them.

So on the morning after her initiation into the intricacies of Americanization, she beamed upon him with almost sisterly affection.

"Good morning, Angelo. Isn't this a wonderful day? Whose secrets have you ferreted out in the night while I was asleep?"

Angelo flushed with pleasure, and shoved some earlier pa.s.sengers back into the car to make room for her beside him.

"I thought you'd be too sick to come this morning," he said, with his wide smile that displayed two rows of white and even teeth. "I thought it would take you twenty-four hours to get over us."

"Oh, not a bit of it," she laughed. "And I am equally glad to see that you are recovering from your attack of me."

This while the elevator rose, stopping at each floor to discharge pa.s.sengers.

At the fifth floor Eveley pa.s.sed out with a final smile and a light friendly touch of her hand on Angelo's arm.

This was the beginning of their strange friendship, which ripened rapidly. Her memory of that night in the Service League with the Irish-American Club was very hazy and dim. Except for the tangible presence and person of Angelo, she might easily have believed it was all a dream.

In spite of her deep conviction that she was not destined to any slight degree of success as an Americanizer, Eveley conscientiously studied books and magazines and attended lectures on the subject, only to experience deep grief as she realized that every additional book, and article, and lecture, only added to her disbelief in her powers of a.s.similation.

So deep and absolute was her absorption, that for some days she denied herself to her friends, and remained wrapped in principles of Americanization, which naturally caused them no pleasure. And when a morning came and she called a hasty meeting of her four closest comrades, voicing imperative needs and fervent appeals for help, she readily secured four promises of attendance in the Cloude Cote that evening at exactly seven-thirty.

At seven-forty-five Eveley sat on the floor beside the window impatiently tapping with the absurd tip of an absurd little slipper. Nolan had not come.

Kitty Lampton was there, balancing herself dangerously with two cushions on the arm of a big rocker. Eveley called Kitty the one drone in her circle of friendship, for Kitty was born to golden spoons and lived a life of comfort and ease and freedom from responsibility in a great home with a doting father, and two attentive maids. Eileen Trevis was there, too, having arrived promptly on the stroke of seven-thirty. Eileen Trevis always arrived promptly on the stroke of the moment she was expected. She was known about town as a successful business woman, though still in the early thirties. The third of the group was Miriam Landis, whose inexcusable marriage to her handsome husband had seriously deranged the morale of the little quartet of comrades.

Eveley looked around upon them. "It is a funny thing, a most remarkably funny thing!" she said indignantly. "Every one says that girls are always late, and you three, except Eileen, are usually later than the average late ones. Yet here you are. And every one says that men are always prompt, and Nolan is certainly worse than the average man in every conceivable way. But Nolan, where is he?"

"Well, go ahead and tell us the news anyhow," said Kitty, hugging the back of the chair to keep from falling while she talked. "But if it is anything about that funny Americanization stuff, you needn't tell it. I asked father about it, and he explained it fully, only he lost me in the first half of the first sentence. So I don't want to hear anything more about it. And you don't need to tell me any more ways of not doing my duty, either, for I am not doing it now as hard as I can."

Miriam Landis leaned forward from the couch where she was lounging idly.

"What is this peculiar little notion of yours about duty, Eveley?" she asked, smiling. "My poor child, all over town they are exploiting you and your silly notions. Even my dear Lem uses your disbelief in duty to excuse himself for being out five nights a week."

"That is absurd," said Eveley, flushing. "And they may laugh all they like. I do believe that duty has wrecked more homes and ruined more lives than--than vampires."

Miriam smiled tolerantly. "Wait till you get married, sweetest," she said softly. "If married women did not believe in duty, and do it, no marriage would last more than six months."

"Well, I qualify myself, you know," said Eveley excusingly. "I do think everybody has one duty--but only one--and it isn't the one most people think it is."

"For the sake of my immortal soul, tell me," pleaded Kitty. "It was you who led me into the dutiless paths. Now lead me back."

"Get up, Kitty, and don't be silly," said Eveley loftily. "This is not a driven duty, but a spontaneous one. And you don't need to know what it is, for it comes naturally, or it doesn't come at all. Isn't that Nolan the most aggravating thing that ever lived? Eight o'clock. And he promised for seven-thirty."

"Go on and tell us, Eveley," said Eileen Trevis. "Maybe somebody is sick, and has to make a will, and he won't be here all night."

"Oh, I can't tell it twice. You know how many questions Nolan always asks, and besides I want to surprise you all in a bunch. Look, did I show you the new blouse I got to-day? I needed a new one to Americanize my Irish-Americans Sat.u.r.day. It cost ten dollars, and perfectly plain--but I look like a sad sweet dream in it."

Then the girls were absorbed in a discussion of the utter impossibility of bringing next month's allowance or salary within speaking distance of last month's bills, a subject which admitted of no argument but which interested them deeply. So after all they did not hear the rumble and creak of the rustic stairway, nor the quick steps crossing the garden on the roof of the sun parlor for Nolan was forgotten until his sharp tap on the gla.s.s was followed by the instant appearance of his head, and his pleasant voice said in tones of friendly raillery:

"Every time I climb those wabbly rattly-bangs that you call rustic stairs, I wonder that you have a friend to your name. h.e.l.lo, Eveley."

"Inasmuch as you made the wabbliest pair of all, and since you climb them more than anybody else, you haven't much room to talk," returned Eveley tartly, drawing back the portieres to admit his entrance, which was no laughing matter for a large man.

"You positively are the latest thing that ever was," she went on, as he landed with a heavy thud.

"Me? Why, I am the soul of punctuality."

"You may be the soul of it, but punctuality does not get far with a soul minus willing feet."

"Anyhow, I am here, and that is something," he said, making the rounds of the room to shake hands cordially with the other girls.

Eveley hopped up quickly on to the small desk--shoving the telephone off, knowing Nolan would catch it, as indeed he did with great skill, having been catching telephones and vases and books for Eveley for five full years. She clasped her hands together, glowing, and her friends leaned toward her expectantly.

"I have called you together," she began in a high, slightly imperious voice, "my four best friends, counting Nolan, because I need advice."

"Do you wish to retain me as counsellor?" asked Nolan, with a strong legal accent "My fee--"

"I do not wish to retain you in any capacity," Eveley interrupted quickly. "My chief worry is how to dispose of you satisfactorily. And as for fees--Pouf! Anyhow, I need advice, good advice, deep advice, loving advice. So I have called you into solemn conclave, and because it is a most exceptional occasion I have prepared refreshments, good ones, sandwiches and coffee and cake--Did you bring the cake, Kit? And ice-cream--the drug-store is going to deliver it at ten, only the boy won't climb the stairs; you'll have to meet him at the bottom, Nolan. So I hope you realize that it is an affair of some moment, and not--Miriam Landis, are you asleep?"

Miriam flashed her eyes wide open, denial on her lips, but Kitty forestalled her. "That is a pose," she explained. "Billy Ferris said, and I told Miriam he said it, that with her eyes closed, she is the loveliest thing in the world. And since then she walks around in her sleep half the time."

Miriam turned toward her, still more indignant denial clamoring for utterance, but Eveley, accepting the explanation as reasonable, went quickly on.

"Now I want you to be very serious and thoughtful--can you concentrate better in the dark, Kit? Because I know at seances and things they turn off the lights, and--"

"Oh, let's do. And we'll all hold hands, and concentrate, and maybe we'll scare up a ghost or something." Then she looked around the room--four girls and Nolan--Nolan, who had edged with alacrity toward Eveley on the telephone desk--and Kitty shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, what's the use?

Never mind. Go on with the gossip, Eveley. I can think with the lights on."

"The ice-cream will be here before we get started," said Eileen Trevis suddenly.

Eveley clasped her hands again and smiled. "I have received a fortune.

Somebody died--you needn't advise me to wear mourning, either, Miriam. I never saw him in my life, and never even heard of him, and honestly I think he got me mixed up with somebody else and left the fortune to the wrong grand-niece, but anyhow it is none of my business, and since he is dead and the money is here, I suppose there is no chance of his discovering the mistake and making me refund it after it is spent."

"A fortune," gasped Kitty, tumbling off the arm of the chair and rushing to fling herself on the floor beside Eveley, warm arms embracing her knees.

"Root of all evil," murmured Miriam, gazing into s.p.a.ce through half-closed lids, and seeing wonderful visions of complexions and permanent curls and a manicure every day.

"How fortunate," said Eileen in a voice pleased though still unruffled and even. "A fortune means safety and protection and--"

"Who the d.i.c.kens has been b.u.t.ting into your affairs now?" demanded Nolan peevishly, and though the girls laughed, there was no laughter in his eyes and no smile on his lips.

"Well, since he calls me his great-niece, I suppose he is my grand-uncle."

"How much, lovey, how much?" gurgled Kitty, at her side.

"Twenty-five hundred dollars," announced Eveley ecstatically.

Nolan breathed again. "Oh, that isn't so bad. I thought maybe some simp had left you a couple of millions or so."