The Mask Part 18

Impatient at the other's silence Kenneth demanded somewhat sharply:

"Well--what do you say? Do you accept?"

He looked straight at his _vis-a-vis_, but Handsome avoided his direct gaze. He was silent for another moment as if reflecting. Then, slowly, he said:

"Yes, I accept."

CHAPTER IX

The string orchestra, adroitly concealed behind a bank of graceful exotic plants, struck up a languorous waltz, and the couples, only too eager to respond to the invitation, began to turn and glide over the polished parquet floor.

Not since its master's departure for South Africa had the Traynor residence been the scene of so much life and gayety. Every window literally blazed with light. From the front door at the top of the high stoop down to the edge of the street curb, stretched a canvas awning to protect arriving guests from the inclemency of the weather.

It was a stormy night. The rain was falling in torrents, but no one cared. Everybody was out for a good time and they knew that this was the house to get it.

Helen's first impulse had been to postpone the affair, held really in celebration of Ray's birthday, until Kenneth's return, but as this idea had met with decided opposition from the younger element, she had reluctantly given way. Besides, there was no knowing when Kenneth would return. Nothing as yet had been heard from him excepting a brief cablegram announcing his safe arrival at Cape Town, and it was manifestly unfair to let her own inclinations stand in the way of the happiness of others. So, after due reflection, she had surrendered completely, giving Ray _carte blanche_ to make what arrangements she chose. That young person did not stand on the order of going. She acted at once and sent out invitations to what proved to be one of the biggest _soirees dansantes_ of the season. Everything was done on a most liberal scale. The house was decorated by Herly, three picturesque fiddlers were obtained from an agency, and Mazzoni, who provides delicacies for the "400," had charge of the catering.

Everybody who was anybody was invited, all Ray's personal friends besides a lot of people she did not know so well. A number of Helen's intimates were there and also some men friends of Mr. Steell and d.i.c.k Reynolds. The girls in their light gowns looked pretty as angels. The men were handsome, attentive and gallant. Altogether, everyone voted it one of the most enjoyable social affairs of the year.

Ray had danced her sixth waltz and at last utterly exhausted, unable to stand any more, she allowed d.i.c.k Reynolds to escort her to a sofa.

"Please get me an ice, will you? That's a dear boy," she gasped.

"Will I!" echoed the youth. "What wouldn't I do for you--fire and water--that's all!"

"As bad as that?" laughed the girl panting. "Please don't be silly.

Go and get me an ice."

Obediently, he left her and forced his way through the throng to the buffet, while Ray, left alone, started to fan herself vigorously. As she sat there Helen pa.s.sed on the arm of Mr. Parker. The President stopped short and quizzed the young girl.

"You here?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old gentleman in mock amazement. "Why aren't you dancing? This will never do."

Helen smiled.

"I expect she's tired out. This is the first time I've seen her sit down all evening."

Ray nodded.

"You've guessed right, sis. I'm nearly dead. I sent d.i.c.k for an ice."

"Did you ever see such a crowd?" remarked the president of the A. A. M.

Company as he surveyed the throng that pa.s.sed in and out of the rooms.

"Oh, Mrs. Traynor we're having such a jolly time," exclaimed a tall graceful girl, gracefully dressed in light blue empire gown with Grecian head dress.

"I'm so glad, dear," smiled the hostess amiably. Turning to Mr. Parker as the girl pa.s.sed on she asked: "Do you know who that is?"

He shook his head.

"She's the granddaughter of John R. Rockerford, the money king. Fancy her saying this is jolly after the grandeur she is accustomed to!"

"No doubt she likes this better," retorted Ray. "Those very rich people don't do things any better than we--sometimes not so well.

Their parties are too stiff and formal."

Suddenly Mr. Parker nudged his hostess.

"Here comes Mrs. Brewster-Curtis," he said in a stage whisper. "They say her husband's worth ten millions--all made from graft."

A handsome woman, blazing with diamonds, came up. Addressing Helen, she exclaimed gushingly:

"Oh, Mrs. Traynor, isn't this perfectly delightful? How do you do, Mr.

Parker. Do you know I haven't enjoyed myself so much this season.

What's the news from your dear husband?"

"No news as yet."

"Dear me--you poor thing! How interesting--so pretty and husband away.

What an opportunity for some of our gay Lotharios!"

"They wouldn't have much chance with Helen!" laughed Ray.

Mrs. Brewster-Curtis turned, and putting up her gold lorgnon, stared at the unknown young woman who had been so bold to venture to express an opinion. Ray, meantime, was wondering what detained d.i.c.k. Here she was famishing with thirst and still no ice. Her partner had disappeared completely.

Addressing her hostess Mrs. Brewster said languidly:

"Your niece, I believe."

"No--my sister," corrected Helen with a smile. It was a mistake often made.

"Of course--of course, how silly of me. I might have known that. You look enough alike."

"Do you think so?" interrupted Ray hotly. "Helen is far prettier than I."

"You are no judge, my dear. You must let the men decide that."

"They do," said Ray, "and they all declare in favor of Helen."

"Not by the way Mr. Steell dodges [Transcriber's note: dogs?] your footsteps." Looking up she exclaimed: "There he is now."

"Oh, Mr. Steell," cried Helen, "don't forget our next waltz."

His face all smiles, the lawyer forced his way through the press of people.

"Have you seen d.i.c.k?" asked Ray. "I sent him to get me an ice."

Mr. Steell laughed outright.