Quill's Window Part 26

ADDISON BLYTHE.

CHAPTER XV

THE FACE AT THE WINDOW

Mrs. Strong, observing her pallor, arose quickly and went to Alix's side, "What is it, dear?" she cried. "What was in that letter? You are as white as a ghost." Receiving for answer a pitiful little smile that was not so much a smile as a grimace of pain, she placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Why did you destroy it?"

"I--I don't know," murmured Alix through set, rigid lips.

"Yes, you DO know," said the other firmly.

Alix looked dumbly into her old friend's eyes for a moment, and then her honest heart spoke: "I destroyed it, Aunt Nancy, because I was afraid to read it again. It was from Addison Blythe. He has been making inquiries concerning Courtney Thane. In that letter he said things which, if true, make Courtney out to be a most--a most unworthy person."

She turned to look into the fire, her eyes narrowing. The black, flaky remnants of the letter were still fluttering on the hearth.

As she watched, the draft caught them and sent them swirling up the chimney.

A high wind was blowing outside. It whistled mournfully around the corners of the house. Somewhere on the floor above a door, buffeted by the wind from an open window, beat a slow and m.u.f.fled measure against its frame.

David's mother saw the colour slowly return to her companion's face.

She waited. Something akin to joy possessed her. She was afraid to speak for fear that her voice would betray her. At last she said:

"We know nothing about Mr. Thane except what he has told us, Alix."

The girl looked searchingly into her eyes.

"You do not like him, Aunt Nancy. I have felt it from the beginning.

Is it because you are David's mother?"

Mrs. Strong started. The direct question had struck home. She was confused.

"Why,--Alix,--I--what a silly thing to ask. What has David to do with it?"

Alix was still looking at her, broodingly. "Why don't you like him, Aunt Nancy?"

"Have I ever said I didn't like him?"

"No. But I know. I know that Charlie Webster does not like him. I knew that Addison did not like him."

Mrs. Strong could not resist the impulse to add: "And Sergeant did not like him."

"And you think THAT convicts him?" said the girl, half ironically.

"I have a good deal of faith in dogs," muttered Mrs. Strong, flus.h.i.+ng.

Alix's gaze went to the huge vase of roses on the table. Then she turned quickly to look once more into her companion's eyes.

"You believe that Courtney poisoned him, don't you?"

"I have no more reason for believing it than you have, Alix,"

returned Mrs. Strong calmly.

"Why,--why do you say that?" cried the girl, startled.

"Because you would not have asked the question if you hadn't been--well, wondering a little yourself, Alix."

"Oh,--I don't want to think it," cried Alix miserably. "I don't want to think of it!"

"No more do I want to think it. Listen to me, Alix. I confess that I do not like this man. I have no way of explaining my feeling toward him. He has always been polite and agreeable to me. He has never done a thing that I can call to mind that would set me against him. Maybe it's because he is not of my world, because he comes from a big city, because deep in his heart he probably looks down on us Hoosiers. I will go farther, Alix, and say that I do not trust him. That is a nasty thing to say. It is none of my business, but I--I wish you did not like him so well, Alix."

"It would appear that my friends are taking more than an ordinary interest in my welfare," said Alix slowly, and with some bitterness.

"Is it possible that you all believe me incapable of taking care of myself?"

"Smarter women than you, Alix Crown, have been fooled by men," said the other sententiously. "Oh, I don't mean the way you think, my child,--so don't glare at me like that. I know you can take care of yourself THAT way,--but how about falling in love? And getting married? And finding out afterward that roses don't grow on cactus plants? That's how women are fooled,--and you're no different from the rest of us."

"I think,--I am quite sure that he is in love with me, Aunt Nancy,"

said Alix, somewhat irrelevantly. There was no sign of gladness, however, nor of triumph, in her dark, brooding eyes.

"That's easy to understand. The point is, Alix,--are you in love with him?"

Alix did not answer at once. The little frown in her eyes deepened.

"I don't think so, Aunt Nancy," she said at last. "I don't believe it is love. That is what troubles me so. It is something I cannot understand. I don't know what has come over me. I will be honest with you,--and with myself. I do not really trust him. I don't believe he is all that he claims to be. And yet,--and yet, Aunt Nancy, I,--I--"

"Don't try to tell me," broke in the older woman gently. "My only sister thought she was in love with Terry Moore, a fellow who had been in the penitentiary once for stealing, and was a drunkard, a gambler, and a bad man with women, and all that. She was crazy about him. She ran off with him and got married. She never was in love with him, Alix. She hated him after a few weeks. He just cast some kind of a spell over her--not a mental spell, you may be sure.

It was something physical. He was slick and smart and good looking, and he just made up his mind to get her. A man can be awful nice when he has once set his heart on getting a girl,--and that's what fools 'em, great and small. All the mistakes are not made by ignorant, scatter-brained girls, my dear. My father used to say that the more sense a woman has, the more likely she is to do something foolish. Now, Alix dear, I know just how it is with you. Courtney Thane has cast a spell over you. I believe in spells, same as the old New Englander used to believe in witchcraft. You don't love him, you don't actually believe in him. You--you are sort of like a bird that is being charmed by a snake. It knows it ought to fly away and yet it can't, because it's so interested in what the snake is going to do next. Thane is attractive. He is, far as I know, a gentleman. At any rate, he would pa.s.s for one, and that's about all you can expect in these days. The thought has entered both our minds that he put Sergeant out of the way. Well, my dear, I don't believe either of us would ever dream of connecting him with it if there wasn't something back in our minds that has been asking questions of us ever since he came here. You say you were afraid to read Mr. Blythe's letter again. Does that mean you are afraid everything he says is true?"

"Oh, I can't believe it,--I must not allow myself to even THINK it," cried the girl. "Why, if what Addison says is true, Courtney Thane is not fit to--There must be some mistake, Aunt Nancy. There were two men of the same name. _I_ WILL NOT BELIEVE IT!"

The two tall women stood tense and rigid, side by side, their backs to the fire, gazing straight before them down the lamp-lit room.

"Has Addison Blythe any reason for lying to you, Alix?" asked the elder quietly.

"Of course not," Alix answered impatiently. "There is some mistake, that's all."

"Do you mind telling me what he says?"

"Mr. Thane is coming to see me tonight," said the girl, uneasily.

"He may come at any moment now. What time is it?"

"Ten minutes of eight. He never comes before half-past." She waited a moment, and then went on deliberately: "I always had an idea it was because he wanted to be sure Sergeant was in the house and not out in the yard."

Alix closed her eyes for a second or two, as if by doing so it were possible to shut out the same thought that had floated through Mrs.

Strong's mind.

"But he need not be afraid of Sergeant now," she said, with a little tremor in her voice. "He will come earlier tonight." The unintentional sarcasm did not escape Mrs. Strong. "Wait till tomorrow, Aunt Nancy.