“Do you mind if I bring Seraphine to the party?” Penelope asked with a far-away look in her eyes.
“Of course not—we'll be glad to have her.”
“All right, Bobby. I will make a confession. There is something I want to confess. I don't know just the details, but—yes I do, too, it's about—” she hesitated, but went on with strengthening resolve, “it's about a trip I made once on a Fall River steamboat.”
Roberta's eyes danced at this prospect.
“Splendid, Pen! We'll have yours last—just before the supper.”
And so it came about that it was Penelope herself who set into action forces of the mind or the soul, memories and fears that were to change her whole future.
We need take no account of the other confessions (except one), tinsel or tawdry fragments from the drift-wood of life, that were offered blithely by three or four members of the gay company. We are concerned with Penelope's confession, and with this only as it leads up to subsequent developments of the evening. There was an ominous significance in the fact that Mrs. Wells made this confession before the man she loved. Why did she do that? Why?
Penelope sat beside a Japanese screen of black and gold on which a red-tongued dragon coiled its embroidered length and, by the light of a yellow lantern just above (there was also a tiny blue lantern that flung down a caressing ray upon her smooth dark hair and adorable shoulders) she glanced at some loose leaves taken from an old diary. Then, nerving herself for the effort, she began in a low, appealing tone, but rather unsteadily:
“I am going to tell you something that—it's very hard for me to speak of this, but—I want to tell it. I have a feeling that if I tell it I may save myself and someone who is dear to me,” she looked down in embarrassment, “from—from a terrible danger. I feel more deeply about this because—some of you remember a strange thing that happened four years ago when I was present at a meeting of this club.”
There were murmurs and nods of understanding from several of the guests who settled themselves into positions of expectant attention.