XXV
PLAYING THE GAME
The big house seemed very lonely to me after my mother-in-law's abrupt departure. I had not dreamed that I could possibly miss the older woman's companionship, especially after her hateful behavior concerning my refusal of the school position.
But when she had left, in dignified dudgeon, for a visit with her daughter, Elizabeth, I realized that I had come to like her, to depend upon her companionship more than I had thought possible. If the country had not been so beautiful I would have proposed going back to the city. But the tall hedges inclosing the old place were so fresh and green, the rolling woodland view from my chamber window so restful, my beds of dahlias, cosmos, marigolds and nasturtiums so brilliant that I could not bring myself to leave it.
If I had not had the vague uneasiness concerning Dicky I could have been perfectly happy in spite of the loneliness. But my uneasiness concerning Dicky's friendship with Grace Draper was deepening to real alarm and anger. I had nothing more tangible than the neighborhood gossip, which I had so thoroughly repulsed when it was offered me by Mrs. Hoch and her daughter. But Dicky was becoming more and more distrait, and when he would allow nothing to keep him from taking the morning train on which Miss Draper traveled to the studio, I remembered that when we had first come to Marvin he had taken any forenoon train he happened to choose.
The second morning after his mother's departure, Dicky almost missed kissing me good-by in his mad haste to catch his train. He rushed out of the door after a most perfunctory peck at my cheek, and I saw him almost running down the little lane bordered with wild flowers that led "across lots" to the railroad station.
"I cannot bear this any longer," I muttered to myself, clenching my hands, as I saw the Hochs, mother and daughter, watching him from their screened porch, and imagined their satirical comments on his eagerness to make the train.
I sat listlessly on the veranda for an hour. Then the ringing of the telephone roused me. As I took down the receiver I heard the droning of the long distance operator: "Is this Marvin, 971?" and at my affirmative answer the husky voice of Lillian Underwood.
"Hello, my dear." Her voice had the comforting warmth which it had held for me ever since the memorable day when by her library fire we had resurrected the secret which her past life and Dicky's shared. We had buried it again, smoothed out all our misunderstandings in the process and been sworn friends ever since.
"Oh, Mrs. Underwood!" My voice was almost a peal of joy. "I am so glad to hear your voice."
"Are you very busy? Is there anything you cannot leave for the day?"
She was direct as usual.
"Only the dog and cat and Katie," I answered.
"Good. Then what train can you get into town, and where can I meet you? I want you to lunch with me. I have something important to talk over with you."
I hastily consulted my watch. "If I hurry I can catch the 10:21. Where can I see you? The train reaches the Pennsylvania at 11 o'clock."
"I'll be in the woman's waiting room at the Pennsylvania, not the Long
Island; the main waiting room. Look for me there. Good-by."
As soon as I caught sight of Lillian I knew that something was the matter, or she would not look at me in that way. Impulsively I laid my hand on hers.
"Tell me, Mrs. Underwood, is anything the matter?"
She imprisoned my hand in both of hers and patted it.
"Nothing that cannot be helped, my dear," she said determinedly. "Now I am going to forbid asking another question until we have had our luncheon. I decline to discuss the affairs of the nation or my own on an empty stomach, and my breakfast this morning consisted of the juice of two lemons and a small cup of coffee."
"Why?" I asked mechanically, although I knew the answer.
"The awful penalty of trying to keep one's figure," she returned lightly. "But I certainly am going to break training this noon. I am simply starved."
Her tone and words were reassuring, although I still felt there was something behind her light manner which intimately concerned me. But I had learned to count on her downright honesty, and her words, "Nothing that cannot be helped, my dear," steadied me, gave me hope that no matter what trouble she had to tell me, she had also a panacea for it.
We discussed our luncheon leisurely. Under the influence of the bracing air, the beautiful view, the delicious viands, I gradually forgot my worries, or at least pushed them back into a corner of my brain.
As we lingered over the ices, Lillian leaned over the table to me.
"Will you do me a favor?" she asked abruptly.
"Try me," I smiled back at her.
"Ask me to your home for a week's stay. I have an idea you need my fine Italian hand at work about now."
I looked at her wonderingly, then I began to tremble.
"Don't look like that," she commanded sharply. "Nothing dreadful is the matter, but that Dicky bird of yours needs his wings clipped a bit, and I think I am the person to apply the shears."
So there was something wrong with Dicky after all!
"Of course, it's that Draper cat," said Lillian Underwood, and the indignation in her voice was a salve to my wounded pride.
"Then you know," I faltered.
"Of course, I know, you poor child; know, too, how distressed you have been, although Dicky doesn't dream that I gathered that from his ingenuous plea for the lady."
My brain whirled. Dicky making an ingenuous plea to Lillian Underwood for his protégé, Grace Draper! I could not understand it.
"If Dicky has spoken of my feeling toward Miss Draper, even to you," I began stormily, feeling every instinct outraged.
"Don't, dear child." Mrs. Underwood reached her firm, cool hand across the table, and put it over my hot, trembling fingers. "You can't fight this thing by getting angry, or by jumping at conclusions. Now, listen to me."
There was a peremptory note in her voice that I was glad to obey. I resolved not to interrupt her again.
"Don't misunderstand me," she went on, "and please don't be angry when I say you are about as able to cope with the situation as a new born baby would be. That's the reason why I want you to let me come down and be a big sister to you. Will you?"
"Of course. You know I will," I returned. "But won't Dicky resent—"
"Dicky won't dream what I'm doing," she retorted tartly, "and when he does wake up I'll take care of him."
Always the note of domination of Dicky! Always the calm assumption, which I knew was justified, that no matter what she did he would not, remain angry at her! It spoke much for the real liking I felt for Lillian Underwood that the old resentment I felt for this condition of things was gone forever. I knew that she was my friend even more than Dicky's, and her history had revealed to me to what lengths she would go in loyalty to a friend.
"You see," she went on, "If the Draper woman were the ordinary type of model there would be no problem at all. Dicky has always been a sort of Sir Galahad of the studios and he had been too proud to engage in even a slight flirtation with any girl in his employ. He is very sincerely in love with you, too, and that safeguards him from any influence that is not quite out of the ordinary.
"But I tell you this Draper girl is a person to be reckoned with. She is hard as nails, beautiful as the devil, and I believe her to be perfectly unscrupulous. She is as interested in Dicky as she can be in any one outside herself, and I think she would like to smash things generally just to gratify her own egotism."
"You mean—" I forced the words through stiff lips.
"I mean she is trying her best to make Dicky fall in love with her, but she isn't going to succeed."
"But I am afraid she has succeeded!" The wail broke from me almost without my own volition.
"Why?" The monosyllable was sharp with anxiety.
I knew better than to keep my part of the story from her. I told her of Dicky's growing coldness to me, his anxiety to get the train upon which Miss Draper traveled, the neighborhood gossip, his determination not to have me meet her sister. I also laid bare the coldness with which I had treated the girl, and my determination never to say a word which would lead Dicky to believe I was jealous of her.
When I had finished Lillian leaned back in her chair and laughed lightly.
"Is that all?" she demanded. "I thought you had something really serious to tell me. If you'll do exactly as I tell you we'll beat this game hands down."
"I'll do just as you say," I responded, although it humiliated me to be put in the position of trying to beat any game, the stake of which was my husband's affections.
"Well, then, that is settled," she said, rising. "Now, for the first gun of the campaign. Call Dicky up, tell him you just lunched with me, and you are ready to go home any time he is."
"Oh, I can't do that," I said. "I couldn't bear to feel that he might prefer to take the train with her."
Lillian came to my side, gripped my shoulder hard, and looked into my eyes grimly.
"See here," she said, "are you going to be a baby or a woman in this thing?"
I swallowed hard. I knew she was right.
"I'll do whatever you wish," I responded meekly.
So I called Dicky on the telephone, and after explaining my unexpected presence in town, arranged to meet him at the station and go home with him.
"Sounds as if we were going to dine with Friend Husband," said
Lillian, as I hung up the receiver.
"Yes, we are going home by trolley from Jamaica. It ought to be a beautiful trip. Dicky must have been thinking of such a trip before, for he told me there was a train to Jamaica at five minutes of four which connects with the trolley, and he usually gets mixed on the schedule of the trains from Marvin."
"What's that?" Lillian stopped short, then turned the subject. "How would you like to go down to the station on top of a bus?" she asked, "or would you prefer a taxi?"
"The bus by all means," I returned.
"I see we are kindred souls," she said. "I dote on a bus ride myself."
We were within a few blocks of the railroad station when she said:
"I hope I am mistaken, but I think Miss Draper will be a member of your trolley trip home, and I want you to be prepared to act as if it were the thing you most desired."
"If you are right, I will not go," I said, a cold fury at my heart. "I will take the next train home."
"You will do no such thing." Lillian's voice was imperative. "You promised you would let me be your big sister in this thing, and you've got to let me run it my way!"
"See here, my dear," her tones were caressing now. "You must use the weapons of a woman of the world in this situation, not those of an unsophisticated girl. The primitive woman from the East Side would waltz in and destroy the beauty of any lady she found philandering, however innocently, with her spouse. The proud, sensitive, inexperienced woman would have done just what you have contemplated, go home alone and ignore the wanderers. But, my dear, you must do neither of those things. You cannot afford to play in Draper's hand like that."
"Tell me what I must do," I said wearily.
"In a minute. First let me put you right on one question. Dicky is not in love with this girl yet. If he were, he would not wish any meeting between you and her. He is interested and attracted, of course, as any impressionable man with an eye for beauty would be if thrown in constant companionship with her. And, forgive me, but I am sure you have taken the wrong tack about it.
"You must dissemble, act a part, meet her feminine wiles with sharper weapons. Now you have been cold to her, avoided seeing her when possible, and while not quarreling with Dicky about her, yet evidencing your disapproval of her in many little ways."
"It is quite true," I answered miserably.
"Then turn over a new leaf right now. You may be sure at this minute that Dicky is worrying more over your attitude toward this trip than he is over Miss Draper's dimples. He expects you to have a grouch. Give him a surprise. Greet the lady smilingly, express your pleasure at having her companionship on your trip, but manage to register delicately your surprise at her being one of the party. No, better leave that part to me. You do the pleasant greeting, I'll put over the catty stuff. But on your honor, until I see you again, will you put down your feelings and cultivate Grace Draper, letting your attitude change slowly, so Dicky will suspect nothing?"
"I'll try," I said faintly.
"You'll do it," she returned bluntly. "I want her to be almost a member of the family by the time I get there."
* * * * *
The trip by trolley with my husband and Grace Draper through the beautiful country lying between Jamaica and Hempstead will always remain in my memory as a turning point in my ideas of matrimony and its problems.
Lillian Underwood's talk with me had destroyed all my previous conceptions of dignified wifely behavior in the face of a problem like mine.
So all during the journey home through the fragrant September air, I paid as much attention to my role of calm friendliness as any actress would to a first night appearance. Remembering Lillian's advice to make the transition gradual from the frigid courtesy of my former meetings with Grace Draper to the friendly warmth we had planned for our campaign, I adopted the manner one would use to a casual but interesting acquaintance.
I kept the conversational ball rolling on almost every topic under the sun. But I found that the burden of the talk fell on my shoulders. The girl was plainly uneasy and puzzled at my manner. Dicky's thoughts I could not fathom, I caught his eyes fixed on me once or twice with admiration and a touch of bewilderment in them, but he said very little.
It was a wonderful night; warm, with the languor of September, fragrant with the heavy odors of ripening fruit and the late autumn blossoms. There was no moon, but the long summer twilight had not yielded entirely to the darkness and the stars were especially bright.
A night for lovers, for vows given and returned, it was this, if ever a night was. What a wonderful journey this would have been for me if only this other woman was not on the other side of my husband! Then with savage resentment I realized that she might also be thinking what possibilities the evening would have held for her if I had not been a third on the little journey.
Whatever Dicky was thinking I dared not guess. Whatever it was, I was sure that his thoughts were not dangerously charged with emotion as were mine and Grace Draper's. I was fiercely glad of his irresponsibility for the first time.
"Come on, girls. Here's Crest Haven. I've got a brilliant idea. We'll get one of these open flivvers they have at the station and motor to Marvin luxuriously. Beats waiting for the train all hollow."
I opened my lips to protest against the extravagance, then closed them without speaking, flushing hotly at the danger I had escaped. Nothing would have so embarrassed Dicky and delighted Miss Draper as any display of financial prudence on my part.
"Oh, Mr. Graham, how wonderful!" Miss Draper gave the impression of finding her voice mislaid somewhere about her, and deciding suddenly to use it. "This is just the night for a motor ride."
Her voice matched the night, cooing, languorous, seductive. I knew if she had voiced her real thoughts she would have willed that I be dropped anywhere by the roadside, so that she might have the enchanting solitude of the ride with Dicky.
A daring thought flashed into my brain as we stepped into the taxi. Why not pretend to play into her hand? It would prove to both Dicky and her that I was indifferent to their close friendship. And I was secretly anxious to see what way Dicky would reply to my proposition.
"Dear," I said with emotion, I fancy just the right note of conjugal tenderness in my voice. "Won't you drop me at the house first before you take Miss Draper home? I'm afraid I am getting a headache. I've had a rather strenuous day with Lillian, you know, and I really am very tired. You will excuse me, I am sure, Miss Draper. I'll try never to quit like this again. But my headaches are not to be trifled with."
"I am so sorry." Her voice was conventional, but I caught the under note of joy. "Of course I will excuse you."
"Are you sure the ride over there wouldn't do your head good, Madge?"
"Oh, no, Dicky, I feel that I must get home quickly. But that does not need to affect your plans. Katie is at home. I do not need you in the least. Go right along and enjoy your ride. I only wish I felt like doing it, too."
I fairly held my breath the rest of the ride. Dicky had not replied to my suggestion. What would he do when we reached the house?
The taxi sped along over the smooth roads, turned up the driveway at the side of the house and halted before the steps of the veranda. Dicky sprang out, gave his hand to me, and then turned to the driver.
"Take this lady to Marvin," he said. "She will tell you the street.
How much do I owe you?"
"One dollar and a half."
I knew the charge was excessive, but I also knew enough to hold my tongue about it. Dicky paid the man and spoke to the girl inside.
"Good night, Miss Draper. You see you will have to enjoy the ride for both of us."
"Oh, Dicky!" I protested, but with a fierce little thrill of triumph at my heart. "This is a shame. Honestly, I do not need you. Go on over with Miss Draper."
"Of course he will do no such thing." The girl spoke with finality. I could imagine the storm of jealous rage that was swaying her. "There is nothing else for Mr. Graham to do but to stay with you." Her tone added, "You have compelled him to do so against his will."
She leaned from the cab. Her face looked ethereally beautiful in the faint light. I knew she meant to make Dicky regret that he could not accompany her.
"Good night," she said sweetly. "I am so sorry you do not feel well. I sincerely hope you will be better in the morning."
But as the taxi rolled away, my heart beating a triumphant accompaniment to the roll of its wheels, I knew she was wishing me every malevolent thing possible.
I was glad she could not guess the bitter taste in my cup of victory. Long after Dicky was asleep, I lay on my porch bed looking out at the stars and debating over and over the question:
"Did Dicky refuse to accompany Grace Draper to her home because of consideration for me, or because he was afraid to trust himself alone with her?"