“I mustn’t—mustn’t! My eyes are always swollen for four hours and my nose gets such a funny pink. I remember Augusta once quoted some poetry about it. I forget it.”
She looked at the divan. It exerted a powerful magnetism. She saw herself lying face downward, sobbing. She caught hold of a chair to hold herself back. “I can’t!” she thought. “I can’t! I must brace up for that dinner. The girls must never know. Oh! I wish I were dead! I wish I were dead!”
“I wish I were dead!” She said it aloud several times, thinking it might lighten the weight in her breast. But it did not. She looked at the clock and shuddered. “It is only five. What am I to do until Lena comes to dress me? She won’t come until half-past six. I can’t go to mamma; she would drive me distracted. Oh! I think I am going mad—but I won’t make a fool of myself.”
She walked up and down the room, clenching her hands until the nails bit the soft palms. “I read somewhere,” she continued aloud, “that the clever people suffered most, that their nerves are more developed or something. I wonder what that must be like. Poor things! I am not clever, and I feel as if I’d dig my grave with my own fingers if I could get into it. Oh! Am I going to cry? I won’t. I’ll think about something that will make me angry. Augusta. She’ll get him now. She’s wanted him from the first. I’ve seen it. She was honourable enough not to regularly try to cut me out, but there’s nothing in the way now. And she will. I know she will. I hate her. I hate her. Oh, God! What shall I do?”
She heard the front door open; a moment later her father ascend the stair and enter his room. She ran across the hall, opened his door without ceremony and caught him about the neck, but still without tears.
He set his lips and held her close. Then he kissed and fondled her as he had not done for years. “Poor little girl,” he said. “I am a terrible failure. God knows I should have been glad to have bought your happiness for you. As it is, I am afraid I have ruined it.”
She noticed for the first time how worn and old he looked. Her development had been rapid during the last hour. She passed on to a new phase. “Poor papa,” she said, putting her hands about his face. “It must be awful for you, and you have never told us. Listen. He said I would make a plucky wife, a good fellow. I’ll take care of you and brace you up. I’ll be everything to you, papa; indeed I will. Papa, you are not crying! Don’t! I have to go out to dinner to-night! Listen. I don’t care much. Indeed I don’t. I’m sure I often wondered why he attracted me so much when I thought him over. Alex says that if he were an American she wouldn’t take the trouble to reform him—that he isn’t worth it. And Hal says he looks like a dough pudding, half baked. It’s dreadful that we can’t control our feelings better—Papa, give me every spare moment you can, won’t you? I can’t stand the thought of the girls.”
“Yes,” he said, “every minute; and as soon as I can we’ll go off somewhere together. It would be a great holiday for me. It is terrible for me to see you suffer, but I am selfish enough to be glad that I shall not lose you. Stay with me awhile. This will pass. You can’t believe that now, but it will; and the next time you love, the man will be more worthy of you. I don’t want to hurt you, my darling, but for the life of me, I can’t think what you see in him.”
CHAPTER XI.
That evening, shortly after Miss Forbes had been dressed for Mrs. Burr’s dinner, her mother entered and dismissed the maid.