The Mask Part 27

"How are you, dear?" she murmured, when at last she could find words.

She had not yet heard the sound of his beloved voice, and when at last he answered her it seemed to her ears only like an echo of its former self, so exhausted and wearied was he by what he had gone through.

"Very tired, sweetheart," he replied huskily. "I shall need a long rest."

She led the way into the house and up the stairs, where everything had been so elaborately prepared for his welcome. In the bedroom she pointed with pride to the real Valenciennes lace coverlet put on in his honor, and showed him the dressing-gown and slippers so lovingly laid out. He looked at everything, but made no comment. She half expected a few words of praise, but none were forthcoming. While affectionately demonstrative he was unusually reticent. She wondered what worry he could have on his mind to make him act so strangely and suddenly Keralio's words of warning came to her mind. Was there a side to his life of which she knew nothing? Were his thoughts elsewhere, even while he was with her? Quickly there came a look of dismay and anxiety, which he was not slow to notice. Instantly on his guard, he murmured in a low tone:

"Forgive me, dear, I can't talk now. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open."

Instantly her apprehension was forgotten in her desire to make him comfortable.

"That's right, dear. You must be dead with fatigue. You'll take a nice nap and when you wake up it will be time for dinner. I've planned a nice little party to celebrate your return--only a few intimates--Mr.

Parker is coming, and Wilbur Steell, and a young man named d.i.c.k Reynolds, an acquaintance of Wilbur's. You won't mind such old friends, will you?"

He shook his head.

"No, indeed. I'm very tired, now, but I'll be all right in a few minutes."

"Of course you will," she smiled, as she removed the handsome lace coverlet from the bed. "No one will disturb you. My darling hubbie can sleep as sound as a top, and, when he wakes, we'll talk a terrible lot, won't we?" Looking up roguishly, as she smoothed his pillow for him, she added shyly: "There are two pillows here now. There has been only one while you were away----"

For the first time he seemed to evince interest in what she was saying.

His eyes flashed behind the blue spectacles, and his hands trembled, as he quickly made a step forward and put his arm round her waist.

"There'll always be two in the future, won't there?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes, of course there will," she laughed,

"To-night?" he insisted.

"Yes, of course," she said, her color heightening slightly under the persistency of his gaze. What a foolish question! Changing the topic she added, with a laugh: "Now, take your coat off, like a good boy, and go to sleep. I'll go down and keep the house quiet. When it's time to get up, I'll come back."

"Don't go yet," he murmured, looking at her ardently. Taking her hand caressingly he tried to lead her to the sofa. "Sit down here. I won't sleep yet. Let us talk. I have so much to say."

Firmly Helen withdrew from his embrace.

"No, no; I won't stay a moment," she said decisively. "Not now. You must behave yourself. We'll talk all you want to to-night. But not now. You are very tired. The sleep will do you good. Now be a good boy--go to bed."

He tried to intercept her before she reached the door, but she was too quick for him. She went out and was about to close the door behind her when he called out:

"Please send Francois to me."

She nodded.

"Yes, dear, I will. Of course you need him. Why didn't I think of it before?"

She closed the door and went downstairs. It was hard to believe that he was back home. How long she had waited for this day, and, even now it had come, the void did not seem filled. There still seemed something wanting. What it was, she did not know, yet it was there.

In the dining-room she ran into Ray, who had her arms filled with magnificent American beauty roses.

"Oh, how beautiful!" cried Helen enthusiastically. "Where did you get those flowers?"

The young girl laughed. "They're a present from me and Wilbur--in honor of Kenneth's arrival. Where is he?"

"Upstairs--he's going to lie down until dinner is ready. Poor soul--he's almost dead with fatigue."

"Has he got the diamonds?"

Helen gasped. She hadn't thought of that. In all the excitement the real object of her husband's trip to South Africa had quite escaped her mind.

"I don't know," she said quickly. "I haven't asked him. We've hardly exchanged a dozen words. He'll tell us later. Was nothing said about them at the Customs? Didn't he declare them?"

"No--I thought it was strange. That's why I asked you if he had them.

Possibly he left them to be cut in Amsterdam."

Helen grew thoughtful.

"I don't know. He'll tell us later."

Ray filled the vases with the flowers, while Helen busied herself at the buffet, getting out all the pretty silverware with which the dinner table was to be decorated. The young girl hummed lightly as she decorated the room with the fragrant blossoms.

"Isn't it lovely that Kenneth is back?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, indeed."

"I hardly knew him at first in those spectacles."

"I'm not surprised at that."

"If it hadn't been for that white patch of hair I don't think we could have picked him out of the crowd. There was an awful crush there."

There was a pause, and then Helen asked:

"How do you think he looks?"

"About the same," replied the girl carelessly. "He doesn't seem in as good spirits as when he went away. He is very quiet. He hardly spoke a word to us on the way home. Possibly he has some business anxiety on his mind."

"Did he ask about me?"

"Yes--you were his first question."

"Did you tell him about Dorothy?"

"That she was not so well? Yes."

"What did he say? Was he worried?"

"Not particularly. I think men are more sensible in those matters than we women. He knows baby is well taken care of." Changing the subject, the young girl went on: "I hope everybody will be jolly to-night. I've made up my mind to have a good time."

Helen sighed.