| OCR Text |
Show n in rvfc' ' 1 IPIEB vnl-Continued .lja looked at her absently, '''''his gaze to Victoria. ; chance of your going down jjonte with me this after- '--'"iarlinS. not on Sunday! Mol-mi Mol-mi Nurse with all ol them and the Carters coming rl They're bringing all the J thought that since you ''yt be here it would be a j chance for a chUdren's sup- Quentin said noncommit- f"vctoria, made vaguely un-' un-' - hj his tone, sent him another ""--ing glance. Quentin wasn't 1 "1'ise himself on this hot still 1 r--:v. other doctors are going, 1 . You're to have your golf '.i morning?" 7 know," he said irreso-! irreso-! '- "I thought I might tele- Johnny. We might have our 1 :"right here. You'll get over ad see her, won't you, Vic?" ' ;;-!" She was completely at 1 'ctying Susan's bib, as Susan ! 'into her. "Take your cooky fmn, darling," she said to the "and don't wake Baby she's -en the side porch!" ' it over and see the Morrisons," :in completed it. 3 Oh, yes!" r.ehow somewhere, something :nong. Through the familiar ; a chill faint wind seemed to ;; a faint apprehension of trou-:-ot change. Vicky couldn't an- -e it, was only vaguely con-' con-' s that she felt it, but it was ;il walk over to the Morrisons' j afternoon for a few minutes, if .lie, Quentin," she said, on an ' vise, after luncheon. Centra was stuffing his pipe; 1-e a mot look up. In their more than 1 ra years of marriage he had : :rmade a call that Vicky could 1 ..ember. Now, sauntering forth .'' ; the garden in search of dogs, ' - iren, his favorite chair under . ; oaks on the long terrace, he n carelessly over his shoulder. .( Ob, don't you bother," he said, ve got enough to do! I'll wattle watt-le - :ver there, later, and afterward :a jive you some idea what sort a outfit it is." lou'd be a darling to do that!" : -ria said. But oddly she did leel happy about it, and it was '3 that Sunday that she dated ; change in Quentin. Not under-why, under-why, she nevertheless was : -sinus of the fact that life some-1 some-1 "didn't go back, after that Sun-j Sun-j ?. to what it had been before. .ist two weeks after the day 'a Vicky and Quentin had first - 'their lovely neighbor, her eyes el i suddenly opened, and after ' Victoria understood. n had said that he thought 'fluid go over to the club, might ; ' mother eighteen if it got cool- ' Bight watch the polo. Vicky r ""n off, had a cloud-clearing 1 nth Mollie, who since her ma-j ma-j ;-"' in port was given the rest 1 afternoon and the evening as . ?cal concession; helped Nurse , extent of opening aU the little ;la'ing out night apparel, put-"ay put-"ay various books and toys i nursery. D .';llly were all in bed, with ani Victoria's head and hair ;; Wo a hundred agonizing di-t di-t by warm good-night kisses , ,' embraces. Five minutes past nd supper due within the ; dear' not much room for .; th"e! Her chiffon was at ' ;'CmI'S' PerhaPs tnat white .. at she had worn this morn- :'-iw Was a wide upper hallway t'i,,!!' filled now with a pleas-like pleas-like the light under t- L Vlctwia, closing the nurs-i; nurs-i; , hlnd her, lingered for I., ,' lts big open window, f-5da, 11,6 C00ling and sot-t-.te-i brea'hing the freshened ; "ng her eyes on the green-;.,the green-;.,the great trees. t;f 8. she could look down '' iTl yard' and the berry -: the "at stretch of ne-t:,ot8at,.where ne-t:,ot8at,.where a cw grazed, ilfided thlhueVergreen hedge '5 C Hardisty property but exquisitely -door t, f 1119 Morrisons !th(.f Was a sma11 striP himani ta the lane Vic ' ot Z Bgure. with the level ; 'J!hee,go!d hair and illumi-! illumi-! 'm , ,Paraso1 a it were '."shad 0 . aeainst the ::, of the lane. t?n' 01 course. She ihaJ the iSmeone- apparently; CCn,,f PerSn t3lking-inst t3lking-inst ,hn " was 1uite wvisi-ue wvisi-ue hedge; it was tall enough to hide anyone who was close to it on the other side. Victoria Vic-toria stood watching her and reflecting reflect-ing upon the Inescapable power of the beauty that had been so suddenly sud-denly introduced into their compact little group. Mrs. Morrison continued talking in the lane; the revolving frills of the parasol tumbling, tumbling. Dusk was falling fast now; Anna coming upstairs, touched the switch that lighted the hall behind Victoria. Vic-toria. How many would there be for supper, please? Victoria turned about; considered. The Keatses had said they'd stop in on their way home with Kate, and Dr. Miller would be here. Six, please, Anna. No, seven; there'd be Gwen, Vic remembered. Anna went downstairs again, but when Victoria turned back to the window the lights in the hall had spoiled the lovely dusk, and the white frock was gone from the lane. She went into her room after a peep at Madeleine. Quentin was tearing oft his clothes. "Oh, did you just come up? I hoped you'd gotten a nap." "I went for a stroll." "A stroll?" "Yep, I walked a little way. It was lovely out. Feels hot in here." "It does feel hot. You didn't get as far as the hospital, did you, Quent? That woman's coming on all right, isn't she?" The roar of the shower drowned any reply Quentin might have shouted shout-ed through the half-closed bathroom door; when he came out again Vic was getting into an old black lace. "It's frightful to burn your shoulders shoul-ders in just the pattern of your bathing bath-ing suit," she said. "I wonder how that woman keeps so white?" Quentin did not answer. "She was down there in the lane just now, parasol and all," Victoria pursued, now doubled over to insert her heels one at a time into rather tight slippers. "Zat so?" Quentin asked, shaving. "Yes. I happened to be looking out of the upper hall window, she was talking to someone gardener, maybe but no, it's Sunday night. Maybe it was a lover," Vic said, trying a heel, scowling, taking up the slipper to flex it vigorously. "She's having a terribly dull time, poor soul, with a sick husband and no friends here." Quentin was pulling his face about with hard fingers, testing his shave. He was non-committal. When he and she were going to bed after the bridge game, quite suddenly Quentin said: "How about asking them to dinner?" din-ner?" "Who?" "The Morrisons." "Oh? Oh, d'you suppose he'd come? He seems so cross. I can't imagine him social and agreeable." "Sure he'd come. She said today to-day he would." A second's electrical pause. Then Vicky said without volition exactly what she did not want to say, in r T She Was Talking to Someone, Apparently. exactly the tone she did not want t0 USe silly suspicious words in a wife's light suspicious tone: "Oh? I didn't know you'd seen her today?" , . "I met her, coming back from my walk," Quentin answered, wondering won-dering at the same instant why he hadn't said that he had seen her for a moment at the club. "In the lane?" "Yep " Vicky was ,Ient a moment. When she spoke, it was to say amiably that she would go over to see Serena Se-rena in a day or two to arrange the dinner. But under her surface he sudd felt1Ite ck from the sudden jarring awakening, sudden sud-den vague fears. Sc-o-o-tha was was it? It was Quentin to whTm SOunradeentalkin8Iath carelP,.mi,SSed her ed-night-a careless kiss on the top of her head-went to his own sleeping Porch Almost immediately heard him snoring. But Vicky lay awake for nervous, restless, unreasoning unrea-soning hours. CHAPTER IX Vicky made a point of calling upon her neighbors a day or two later, to invite them to dinner. Feehng oddly formal in her silk gown, with calling cardr in her purse and white gloves carried as a final touch, Vicky sat in the patio 01 the Morrison house with the in-lured in-lured man and hi3 lQvely wife talked somewhat stiltedly and constrainedly. con-strainedly. She and Dr. Hardisty lived very quietly, she explained: as indeed a doctor has to do when he is building up his practice, and has six small children!" Vicky ended, end-ed, with a little laugh. "Oh, yes, you poor thing!" Serena Se-rena said so heartily that Spencer Morrison laughed his sinister laugh and Vicky hated her. "I didn't know whether coming to dine with us would give Mr. Morrison Mor-rison any pleasure or not," Vicky said later, when she was walking home, and Serena had volunteered to accompany her. "I beg pardon?" "I was wondering if Mr. Morrison Morri-son would think it more bother than it was worth?" "Oh, he can walk that far," Serena Se-rena said vaguely. Victoria did not pursue the subject. sub-ject. They were in the Utile lane that separated the two properties now, and suddenly she stcoped and picked up a small bright object. And ao she did so she felt her heart begin be-gin to beat faster, and the blood in her faee. "Quentin's cigarette lighter!" she said. "He's been looking for it everywhere." ev-erywhere." "Imagine," Serena commented, undisturbed. "He probably dropped it," Vicky said, suddenly trembling, "when you and he were talking here in the lane last Sunday." Half an hour later Quentin came upstairs to find Vicky changing her gown for dinner. "I met Mrs. Morrison Lord, she is a lovely creature!" Quentin observed, ob-served, plunging at once into his ablutions. "She'd started to walk to the village, it was too much for her, and she asked me to telephone for a taxi to pick her up. But instead in-stead I ran her downtown it seems he wanted the mail, I guess he gets his own way pretty well! and then took her home. It only took me ten minutes. She tells me " he looked out of a towel, his hair in wild wet confusion to say in satisfaction satis-faction "she tells me you called there today, Vic. I'm glad. She's a lovely woman, and she'll be great company for you." Victoria, at her dressing table, continued to brush her hair. Once she looked steadily at Quentin, in the mirror, but he did not see her. "I told you they could come Thursday night?" she asked. "Yep. Who else are you going to have?" "Gita and Gwen and ourselves and Mother." "Quentin turned, his face coloring color-ing with amazement. "Why, my dear, you can't do that!" he said quickly. "Do what?" "Why, have those people, the first time, and not make an occasion of it!" Vicky was genuinely astonished. "How d'you mean, Quentin?" "Well, I mean that they're important im-portant people; his father is Sir Percival Morrison. I do think that ever if ever we're going to spread ourselves, this is the time!" "But he's an invalid, Quent!" "He .'s and he isn't. He's lost an eye, of course, but he's an Englishman, English-man, and you'll find them regular sticklers for formality. Oh, no, we'll have to make it a formal affair, and Dr. Austreicher." I'd ask the Rays and the Sinclairs "I see!" Vic murmured as he paused. Her heart was lead. "Why do you say 'I see'?" Quentin Quen-tin demanded suspiciously. "Well, we haven't given that sort of an affair since before the twins were born. We've had nothing but Sunday lunches, and bridge dinners fcr just four!" "Why, but there's nothing so formidable for-midable about it, Vic!" He spoke with a sort of amused impatience. It was not amusing to Vic She understood his mood too well- his unwonted fussing over every ev-ery detail of the approaching dinner; din-ner; his strange excited spirits when the night finally came. Quentm, who usually loathed such affairs, was nervous as a young wife over the candles and flowers, and welcomed the guests with a joviality and assurance as-surance that seemed to Vicky almost al-most as bad as his usual manner of grim and polite endurance. The Morrisons came last; me man, who wore a black patch over one eye. limping a little, eviden ly glad to drop into the nearest cha r, lerena shining in flawless beauty vlcky herscL' felt tired; things had not gone any too well throughout the Tong rainy day, she had small heart in the affair. mxi,e earlier stages of the dinner were a success. Just why not, Vic was unable to perceive. Serena sat next to Quentin. icky was miserably impressed, from her end ol the table, that guest of t honor did not have much tc say. Anyone as beautiful as that did ,iot have to have much to say; she made all the other women look plain and badly dressed and sound chatter- i boxes. The atmosphere seemed definitely i clearer when they had gone. They ! went early; the bowed, carefully i walking lean man with the neat j black patch over one eye, and the ; superbly moving woman with her fair head held high. Everyone could discuss them then, and the contract con-tract fanatics could settle down to their game. Vicky and Violet and one or two of the other women turned the lights low in the drawing draw-ing room, gathered about the fire, and analyzed the Morrisons at their leisure. Quentin had said that he would walk through the garden with the Morrisons, but the night had proved to be still blowy and rainy, and they had had to have the car for the twice two hundred yards. On the whole, wearily glad that it was over, limping upstairs in her stiff new slippers, Vicky pronounced the affair a drag, a bore, a failure. It went on and on; he never saw It; she could see nothing else. Vicky grew nervous and irritable, wondering won-dering about it; wondering when- fill llllllllllliiiiiiiiwi U (771 V? : "Doesn't Mrs. Morrison Play?" Vicky Asked. ever he was out of her sight where Quentin was, wondering how often he saw Serena, and under what circumstances. cir-cumstances. "I saw Serena today," Quentin said one night, when their acquaintance acquaint-ance with the Morrisons was of only a few weeks' standing. "Oh, that was nice. Did she come to the office?" "No, I took her to lunch." "Oh?" A pause. Then the inevitable inevi-table interrogation, as unwelcome to Victoria as to Quentin, but dragged from her nevertheless by a power stronger than herself. "Happen "Hap-pen to meet her?" "No-o. I spoke of it Sunday. She said that she was going to be in town." "I see." And do what she would, the pause would seem to have significance, sig-nificance, and do what she would, she could not seem to fill it with some casual pleasantry. Presently Victoria and Quentin had to dine with their neighbors. Quentin, who rarely went to dinners, din-ners, had accepted this invitation as a matter of course, without consulting con-sulting Victoria. She knew in advance ad-vance that the event would hold no pleasure for her, she felt like a rough-headed child in a home-made gown when the night came and she and Quentin walked across the side lawn and past the berry patch and the pasture field, and went through the old gate into the lane, and so on to the Morrisons for dinner. The affair af-fair was indeed informal. Only their four selves were at the table. Serena was no such housekeeper as Victoria Hardisty, but she made no apologies for a poor dinner and indifferent in-different service. The winter night was clear and cold; after dinner there was a fire intermittently replenished re-plenished by Quentin, and Victoria and Spencer Morrison played backgammon, back-gammon, and then cribbage. At first they played in the sitting room, but presently Spencer suggested sug-gested his rather untidy study, where there was an electric heater. He and Victoria went in there, and she exerted herself charitably to make the games interesting. Nine o'clock, ten o'clock -struck; Victoria was overcome with sleepiness, and she felt that she could decently suggest sug-gest going home. Her heart was not on the game; she felt nervous and distracted. Presently she. rose; they really must go now; after all, she had a houseful of small children to consider, and Quentin must make an early start in the morning. Her host seemed petulant and angry an-gry that she should break up the evening, but contented himself with asking her to come over any day, any hour, to get her revenge. "Come tomorrow at about two, If you can," he urged. "Doesn't Mrs. Morrison play?" Vicky asked, with an inward smile at the idea that she could find time tomorrow, or any day. for an Idle afternoon game with a neighbor. (10 BE COTlCED) |
