The Flirt Part 21

Baw-hawbaw! Oh, maw!"

"She had no idea she should find _me_ in town, she said," Cora ran on, happily. "She came back early on account of the children having to be sent to school. She has such adorable children--beautiful, dimpled babes----"

"SLUSH! SLUSH! LUV-A-LY SLUSH!"

"--And her dear son, Egerton Villard, he's grown to be such a comely lad, and he has the most charming courtly manners: he helped his mother out of her carriage with all the air of a man of the world, and bowed to me as to a d.u.c.h.ess. I think he might be a great influence for good if the dear Villards would but sometimes let him a.s.sociate a little with our unfortunate Hedrick. Egerton Villard is really _distingue_; he has a beautiful head; and if he could be induced but to let Hedrick follow him about but a little----"

"I'll beat his beautiful head off for him if he but b.u.t.ts in on me but a little!" Hedrick promised earnestly. "Idiot!"

Cora turned toward him innocently. "What did you say, Hedrick?"

"I said 'Idiot'!"

"You mean Egerton Villard?"

"Both of you!"

"You think I'm an idiot, Hedrick?" Her tone was calm, merely inquisitive.

"Yes, I do!"

"Oh, no," she said pleasantly. "Don't you think if I were _really_ an idiot I'd be even fonder of you than I am?"

It took his breath. In a panic he sat waiting he knew not what; but Cora blandly resumed her interrupted remarks to her mother, beginning a description of Mrs. Villard's dress; Laura was talking unconcernedly to Miss Peirce; no one appeared to be aware that anything unusual had been said. His breath came back, and, summoning his presence of mind, he found himself able to consider his position with some degree of a.s.surance. Perhaps, after all, Cora's retort had been merely a coincidence. He went over and over it in his mind, making a pretence, meanwhile, to be busy with his plate. "If I were _really_ an idiot." . . . It was the "_really_"

that troubled him. But for that one word, he could have decided that her remark was a coincidence; but "_really_" was ominous; had a sinister ring. "If I were _really_ an idiot!" Suddenly the pleasant clouds that had obscured his memory of the fatal evening were swept away as by a monstrous Hand: it all came back to him with sickening clearness. So is it always with the sinner with his sin and its threatened discovery. Again, in his miserable mind, he sat beside Lolita on the fence, with the moon shining through her hair; and he knew--for he had often read it--that a man could be punished his whole life through for a single moment's weakness. A man might become rich, great, honoured, and have a large family, but his one soft sin would follow him, hunt him out and pull him down at last. "_Really_ an idiot!" Did that relentless Comanche, Cora, know this Thing? He shuddered. Then he fell back upon his faith in Providence. It _could_ not be that she knew! Ah, no!

Heaven would not let the world be so bad as that! And yet it did sometimes become negligent--he remembered the case of a baby-girl cousin who fell into the bath-tub and was drowned. Providence had allowed that: What a.s.surance had he that it would not go a step farther?

"Why, Hedrick," said Cora, turning toward him cheerfully, "you're not really eating anything; you're only pretending to." His heart sank with apprehension. Was it coming? "You really must eat," she went on. "School begins so soon, you must be strong, you know. How we shall miss you here at home during your hours of work!"

With that, the burden fell from his shoulders, his increasing terrors took wing. If Laura had told his ghastly secret to Cora, the latter would not have had recourse to such weak satire as this. Cora was not the kind of person to try a popgun on an enemy when she had a thirteen-inch gun at her disposal; so he reasoned; and in the gush of his relief and happiness, responded:

"You're a little too c.o.c.ky lately, Cora-lee: I wish you were _my_ daughter--just about five minutes!"

Cora looked upon him fondly. "What would you do to me," she inquired with a terrible sweetness--"darling little boy?"

Hedrick's head swam. The blow was square in the face; it jarred every bone; the world seemed to topple. His mother, rising from her chair, choked slightly, and hurried to join the nurse, who was already on her way upstairs. Cora sent an affectionate laugh across the table to her stunned antagonist.

"You wouldn't beat me, would you, dear?" she murmured. "I'm almost sure you wouldn't; not if I asked you to kiss me some _more_."

All doubt was gone, the last hope fled! The worst had arrived. A vision of the awful future flamed across his staggered mind. The doors to the arena were flung open: the wild beasts howled for hunger of him; the spectators waited.

Cora began lightly to sing:

. . . "Dear, Would thou wert near To hear me tell how fair thou art!

Since thou art gone I mourn all alone, Oh, my Lolita----"

She broke off to explain: "It's one of those pa.s.sionate little Spanish serenades, Hedrick. I'll sing it for your boy-friends next time they come to play in the yard. I think they'd like it. When they know why you like it so much, I'm sure they will. Of course you _do_ like it--you roguish little lover!" A spasm rewarded this demoniacal phrase. "Darling little boy, the serenade goes on like this:

Oh, my Lolita, come to my heart: Oh, come beloved, love let me press thee, While I caress thee In one long kiss, Lolita!

Lolita come! Let me----"

Hedrick sprang to his feet with a yell of agony. "Laura Madison, you tattle-tale," he bellowed, "I'll never forgive you as long as I live! I'll get even with you if it takes a thousand years!"

With that, and pausing merely to kick a rung out of a chair which happened to be in his way, he rushed from the room.

His sisters had risen to go, and Cora flung her arms round Laura in ecstacy. "You mean old viper!" she cried. "You could have told me days ago! It's almost too good to be true: it's the first time in my whole life I've felt safe from the Pest for a moment!"

Laura shook her head. "My conscience troubles me; it did seem as if I ought to tell you--and mamma thought so, too; and I gave him warning, but now that I have done it, it seems rather mean and----"

"No!" exclaimed Cora. "You just gave me a chance to protect myself for once, thank heaven!" And she picked up her skirts and danced her way into the front hall.

"I'm afraid," said Laura, following, "I shouldn't have done it."

"Oh, Laura," cried the younger girl, "I am having the best time, these days! This just caps it." She lowered her voice, but her eyes grew even brighter. "I think I've shown a certain gentleman a few things he didn't understand!"

"Who, dear?"

"Val," returned Cora lightly; "Valentine Corliss. I think he knows a little more about women than he did when he first came here."

"You've had a difference with him?" asked Laura with eager hopefulness. "You've broken with him?"

"Oh, Lord, no! Nothing like that." Cora leaned to her confidentially. "He told me, once, he'd be at the feet of any woman that could help put through an affair like his oil scheme, and I decided I'd just show him what I could do. He'd talk about it to me; then he'd laugh at me. That very Sunday when I got papa to go in----"

"But he didn't," said Laura helplessly. "He only said he'd try to----when he gets well."

"It's all the same--and it'll be a great thing for him, too," said Cora, gayly. "Well, that very afternoon before Val left, he practically told me I was no good. Of course he didn't use just those words--that isn't his way--but he laughed at me. And haven't I shown him! I sent Richard a note that very night saying papa had consented to be secretary of the company, and Richard had said he'd go in if papa did that, and he couldn't break his word----"

"I know," said Laura, sighing. "I know."

"Laura"--Cora spoke with sudden gravity--"did you ever know anybody like me? I'm almost getting superst.i.tious about it, because it seems to me I _always_ get just what I set out to get.

I believe I could have anything in the world if I tried for it."

"I hope so, if you tried for something good for you," said Laura sadly. "Cora, dear, you will--you will be a little easy on Hedrick, won't you?"

Cora leaned against the newel and laughed till she was exhausted.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mr. Trumble's offices were heralded by a neat blazon upon the princ.i.p.al door, "Wade J. Trumble, Mortgages and Loans"; and the gentleman thus comfortably, proclaimed, emerging from that door upon a September noontide, burlesqued a start of surprise at sight of a figure unlocking an opposite door which exhibited the name, "Ray Vilas," and below it, the cryptic phrase, "Probate Law."

"Water!" murmured Mr. Trumble, affecting to faint. "You ain't going in _there_, are you, Ray?" He followed the other into the office, and stood leaning against a bookcase, with his hands in his pockets, while Vilas raised the two windows, which were obscured by a film of smoke-deposit: there was a thin coat of fine sifted dust over everything. "Better not sit down, Ray," continued Trumble, warningly. "You'll spoil your clothes and you might get a client. That word 'Probate' on the door ain't going to keep 'em out forever. You recognize the old place, I s'pose? You must have been here at least twice since you moved in. What's the matter?

d.i.c.k Lindley hasn't missionaried you into any idea of _working_, has he? Oh, no, _I_ see: the Richfield Hotel bar has closed--you've managed to drink it all at last!"

"Have you heard how old man Madison is to-day?" asked Ray, dusting his fingers with a handkerchief.

"Somebody told me yesterday he was about the same. He's not going to get well."