IV
The thought of remaining at home was unbearable, and after supper Grace telephoned Irene to ask whether she was free for the evening.
“Tommy said something about taking a drive and I’m going over to Minnie’s to meet him. You come right along. I saw Ward snatch you out of the store. Pretty cool, I call it! Tommy said he was going back East at seven, so you’re a widow once more!”
Grace left the house with her father, who was spending all his evenings at Kemp’s plant. To all questions at home as to the progress of his motor Durland replied that he guessed it would be all right. On the street-car he told Grace he was anxious to see Trenton; there were difficulties as to the motor that he wished to discuss with him. He said he had written, asking an interview as soon as possible, but that Trenton had not replied. Grace answered that she knew nothing about him and her heart sank as she remembered that Trenton was no longer a part of her life and that in the future he would come and go and she would never be the wiser.
It was all over and she faced the task of convincing herself that her love for him had been a delusion, a mere episode to be forgotten as quickly as possible. She left her father at Washington street, cheerily wishing him good luck, and took a car that ran past Minnie’s door.
Irene was alone and, in a new gown of coppergreen crepe that enhanced the gold in her hair, might have posed as the spirit of spring. Minnie had remained down town, she explained, and Tommy was not expected until nine.
“What’s happened?” she demanded. “I know something’s doing or you wouldn’t have called me up from home.”
Grace took off her coat, hung it over the back of a chair and flung herself down on the couch.
“Console me a little, Irene,—but not too much—I’ve seen Ward for the last time.”
“His wife make a row?” Irene inquired.
“Yes, he took me to see her and she——”
“He took you to see her! Grace Durland, what are you talking about?”
“Just that!” and Grace, no longer able to restrain herself, burst into tears.
“You poor baby!”
Irene jumped up and thrust a pillow back of Grace’s head and sat down beside her. “Tell me about it if you want to, but not unless you feel like it, honey.”
“I’ve simply got to tell you, Irene. Oh——!”
“Grace Durland, don’t be silly! You know I’d die for you!”
She listened in patient silence while Grace told with minute detail and many tears the story of her interview with Mrs. Trenton.
“I loved him; I still love him, Irene!” she moaned pitifully when she had finished. “And it had to end like that!”
“If you want my opinion,” said Irene judicially, “I’ll say that Ward Trenton is a perfect nut—the final and consummate nut of the whole nut family! The idea that he would take a girl like you—and you’re a good deal of a kid, my dear—to call on a woman like that wife of his, who’s an experienced worldly creature, and as much as tell her that he’s in love with you! It’s the limit!”
“But,” said Grace, quick to defend the moment Trenton was attacked, “he had every reason to believe she would be decent! She’d always let him think that if there was any one else she’d—she’d——”
“She’d hand him a transfer!” Irene laughed ironically. “Isn’t that just like poor old Ward! I tell you men are even as little babes where women are concerned. There isn’t a woman on earth who’d just calmly sit by and let another woman walk off with her husband even if she hated him like poison. It’s against nature, dearest. I can see how that woman would make the bluff, all right, but all she wanted was to see what you looked like and finding you young and beautiful she tried to make you feel like a counterfeit nickel. The trouble with Ward is that he’s so head over heels in love with you that he’s lost his mind. I wonder what happened after you skipped! I’ll bet it was some party! But don’t you believe he’s going to give you up—not Ward! Everything’s going to straighten out, honey. His telling you to go doesn’t mean a blessed thing! He just wanted to get you out of the scrap.”
“It means the end,” said Grace with a sigh that lost itself in a sob.
The bell tinkled and Grace ran away to remove the traces of tears from her face. When she reappeared Kemp greeted her with his usual raillery.
“I had only a word with Ward over the telephone,” he said. “He came out to see his wife and as he borrowed my limousine I guess he showed her the village sights. But, of course, you know more about that bird than I do, Grace. You couldn’t scare me up a drink, could you, Irene? Minnie’s got some stuff of mine concealed here somewhere. Just a spoonful—no? Grace, this girl is a cruel tyrant. She positively refuses to let me die a drunkard’s happy death.”
He evidently wasn’t aware that Grace had seen Trenton and Irene carefully kept the talk in safe channels. He had brought his roadster, not knowing that he was to find Grace at Minnie’s, but he insisted that the car carried three comfortably and he wouldn’t consider leaving her behind.
It was the same car in which Trenton had driven her into town after the night they spent together at The Shack. In spite of her attempts to forget, thoughts of him filled her mind like an implacable host of soldiery....
After a plunge into the country they swung back to town along the river.
“By Jove!” exclaimed Kemp suddenly. “There’s my little factory over there in the moonlight. Have you ever seen it, Grace? We’ll just dash in for a minute.”
“I wonder if father’s still there?” said Grace as they drove into the lighted yard.
“We’ll soon find out. That’s his workshop yonder where you see the bluish lights. I see O’Reilly’s light on in the main office. That fellow works too hard.”
“It’s a good thing somebody works around this place,” said Irene. “The world knows you don’t.”
“Oh, it’s not as bad as that,” Kemp retorted, and led the way down a long aisle of one of the steel and glass units of the big plant. The moon diffused its mild radiance through the glass roof, as though mocking with a superior mystery the silent inert machinery.
The sound of voices became audible in a room partitioned off in one corner. The door was ajar and two men in overalls and jumpers were pondering a motor set up on a testing block.
The trio remained outside, watching the two intent, rapt figures. One Grace had recognized as her father; the other, she realized bewilderedly, was Ward Trenton. Trenton, unconscious that he was watched, raised his hand and Durland turned a switch. The hum of a motor filled the room; and Durland turned slowly from the motor to glance at Trenton. Trenton signalled to shut off the power and dropped upon his knees, peering into the machine. Durland took up a sheet of paper and from it answered the questions which Trenton shot at him in rapid succession.
“Let’s have the power again,” said Trenton. He rose, bent his ear to study the sound, turned to Durland and nodded.
“Let’s see what they’re up to,” said Kemp and shouted Trenton’s name. Grace drew back as the two men turned toward them, but Irene seized her arm.
“Don’t you dare run away!”
Trenton came toward them snatching off his blue mechanic’s cap. There was a smudge across his face and his hands were black from contact with the machinery.
“I didn’t really lie to you, Tommy: I meant to leave tonight but remembered that Mr. Durland wanted to see me, so here I am.”
They followed him to the testing block where Durland had remained, too engrossed to heed them.
“I’m glad you came just when you did,” said Trenton addressing all of them but looking at Grace. “Mr. Durland will be ready to begin the final tests tomorrow. I’m sure they’re going to be successful. I want you to be here, Tommy, and see the thing through. Just look at this!”
He deftly lifted out a part of the motor for Kemp’s inspection, restored it and then bent over the bench, rapidly scribbling notes on the back of a blue print.
“Congratulations are now in order, I suppose,” said Kemp. He turned and shook hands with Durland, who was regarding the motor with a puzzled look on his face. Trenton said he would remain a while longer—he might stay all night, he added with a laugh.
“This is too important to leave, so I’ve changed all my plans and will be here two or three days.”
“When this bird works, he works,” said Kemp, laying his hand affectionately on Trenton’s shoulder.
Trenton followed them out, keeping close to Grace. When they were out of ear shot of her father—Durland apparently hadn’t noticed that Grace was in the room—Trenton said:
“I called you at home this evening and found you’d gone out. I want to see you; I must see you,” he said pleadingly.
Kemp had reached the main shop and was explaining to Irene some of the points of the motor.
“Kemp!” Trenton called. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Nothing; I’m ready for anything.”
“Well, Grace and I would like to have dinner with you at The Shack.”
“A grand idea! Only remember—none of this prohibition stuff you pulled on me Christmas. I cannot dine without my wine!” he chanted.
When they reached the yard Kemp and Irene were waiting by the car. Trenton caught Grace’s hand and whispered:
“Remember, I love you! I shall always love you.”
“No—no—” she began. “Oh this isn’t kind! I thought you had gone—or——”
“Come along, Grace,” cried Kemp. “See you tomorrow, Ward. Good-night and good luck!”
To Grace, on the homeward drive, peace seemed an unattainable thing. She had firmly resolved never to see Trenton again; but she had not only seen him but the sight of him had deepened the hunger in her heart. She was without the will to deny him the meeting for which he had asked. It was sweet to think that he had remained if only to assist her father when he had definitely said that he was leaving that night. Yes; there was kindness in this; and even though he had sent her away from Miss Reynolds’s and wounded her deeply in his manner of doing it, she knew that it was always his wish to be kind and that no power could keep her from seeing him again, if only for a last good-bye.