"Let me see," Mrs. Habersham thought a moment, "she had been at Mademoiselle Mariposa's early in the afternoon; but what she did before that, I do not know. Of course, I suppose, she spent the morning at—at her studio."
"She had been at the Mariposa's? Are you sure?" questioned Hayden.
"Oh, positive." Bea lifted her face to look at him in surprise. "Yes, I distinctly remember her saying so. We were speaking of what we were to wear to‑night, and she mentioned Mademoiselle Mariposa's costume particularly. She said she had seen it this afternoon, that Ydo, as she calls her, had shown it to her."
"Mrs. Habersham," Hayden looked down at her, his square face set, his eyes full of decision, "I do not believe that I am prying into Miss Oldham's affairs, when I ask you, who have been her intimate friend since your early school‑days,—what is the cause for the friendship between Miss Oldham and Mademoiselle Mariposa? When did the acquaintance begin?"
Bea lifted sincere eyes to his. "Truly, Mr. Hayden, I do not know. I can not throw any light on the subject. I remember though when we were school‑girls, Marcia used to spin some fascinating yarns about the sayings and doings of her friend Ydo; but since the lady has made her spectacular appearance as a fortune‑teller, the Veiled Mariposa, and become such a social fad, why, it is simply impossible to get any information out of Marcia. Kitty and I have plied her with questions, because we were both interested in mademoiselle, but Marcia shuts her mouth tight and never says a word, merely remarking that for the present, Ydo desires nothing should be known. The more mysterious she appears, the better it is for business. Do you not think so?"
"Naturally," he replied.
"The only time I have ever seen them together, Ydo and Marcia," continued Bea, who was in a loquacious mood and ready to be lured on by Hayden's interest, "was one evening when I happened to see them dining together at the Gildersleeve. They were with Mr. ——" Bea hesitated the twinkling of an eyelash, "an elderly man," she concluded rather lamely.
Hayden looked straight ahead. The words seemed to repeat themselves in his brain. He remembered that other occasion when Marcia had been there with an elderly man. His mind leaped to the conclusion that it was the same—the same middle‑aged person with whom he had later seen Marcia driving down the Avenue, and Horace Penfield had smiled and made some offensive remark about the rich uncle from Australia. He felt convinced that this was the man who had sent Ydo the telegram the day before, for Ydo knew him. Had he, Robert, not seen him at her apartment? The demon of jealousy began its diabolical whisperings, a mist seemed to float before Hayden's eyes; but with all the strength of his nature, he refused to listen. This demon was a visitor that he was resolved not to admit, no matter how insistent its demands. Had he not promised Marcia his heart's fealty? Had he not vowed to himself that no matter what mysteries encompassed and enmeshed her, he would believe and never doubt? And he again determined with all the strength of his soul to hold that faith so high and pure and clean that it should never know the stain of suspicion.
"We are making too much of this matter," said Bea resolutely, after stealing a glance at Hayden's face. "It is a pity that a person can't indulge in a mood now and then without having it subjected to an elaborate analysis by his friends. Marcia will appear to‑night perfectly radiant, I am sure, and you and I will feel like idiots. Do you know, I quite reproached her for going to that luncheon yesterday. Why on earth should she further any of Mrs. Ames' plans? I told her so frankly; but she only smiled and said that it was trivial to notice such things. That even if Mrs. Ames had been rather catty, Wilfred had always been an especially good friend of hers, and since she didn't believe in bearing malice and harboring grievances, she was only too willing to be persuaded to go.
"But what every one is frantic to know is, what did it all mean? Why really, there are two decided factions. One says it means that Mrs. Ames has capitulated and that she took this method of announcing the withdrawal of all opposition to an engagement between Wilfred and Marcia, and merely invited the Mariposa to show how foolish was the gossip about Wilfred's devotion to her. The other faction asserts that there is really something in all this talk about Wilfred's infatuation for Mademoiselle Mariposa, and that his mother countenances it and took this method of showing the world her approval of his choice. But every one is utterly at sea. No one knows really what to think. So you may fancy how tongues are wagging.