A Husband by Proxy Part 5

CHAPTER III

TWO ENCOUNTERS

Garrison roomed in Forty-fourth Street, where he occupied a small, second-story apartment. His meals he procured at various restaurants where fancy chanced to lead.

To-night a certain eagerness for adventure possessed his being.

More than anything else in the world he wished to see Dorothy again; he hardly dared confess why, but told himself that she was charming--and his nature demanded excitement.

He dined well and leisurely, bought a box of chocolates to present to his new-found "wife," dressed himself with exceptional care, and at length took an uptown train for his destination.

All the way on the cars he was thinking of the task he had undertaken to perform. Not without certain phases of amus.e.m.e.nt, he rehea.r.s.ed his part, and made up his mind to leave nothing of the role neglected.

Arrived in the West Side street, close to the house which should have been Dorothy's, he discovered that the numbering on the doors had been wretchedly mismanaged. One or the other of two brownstone fronts must be her residence; he could not determine which. The nearest was lighted from top to bottom. In the other a single pair of windows only, on the second floor, showed the slightest sign of life.

Resolved to be equal to anything the adventure might require, he mounted the steps of the lighted dwelling and rang the bell. He was almost immediately admitted by a serving-man, who appeared a trifle surprised to behold him, but who bowed him in as if he were expected, with much formality and deference.

"What shall I call you?" he said.

Garrison was surprised, but he announced:

"Just Mr. Jerold."

A second door was opened; a gush of perfumed air, a chorus of gay young voices, and a peal of laughter greeted Garrison's ears as the servant called out his name.

Instantly a troop of brilliantly dressed young women came running from the nearest room, all in fancy costume and all of them masked.

Evidently a fancy-dress party was about to begin in the house.

Garrison realized his blunder.

Before he could move, a stunning, superbly gowned girl, with bare neck and shoulders that were the absolute perfection of beauty, came boldly up to where the visitor stood. The others had ceased their laughter.

"Jerold!--how good of you to come!" said the girl, and, boldly patting his face with her hand, she quickly darted from him, while the others laughed with glee.

Garrison was sure he had never seen her before. Indeed, he had scarcely had time to note anything about her, save that on her neck she wore two necklaces--one of diamonds, the other of pearls, and both of wonderful gems.

Then out from the room from which she had come stepped a man appareled as Satan--in red from top to toe. He, too, was in mask. He joined in the laughter with the others.

Garrison "found himself" with admirable presence of mind.

"My one regret is that I may not remain," he said, with a bow to the ladies. "I might also regret having entered the wrong house, but your reception renders such an emotion impossible."

He bowed himself out with commendable grace, and the bold masquerader threw kisses as he went. Amused, quite as much as annoyed, at his blunder, he made himself ready as best he might for another adventure, climbed the steps of the dwelling next at hand, and once more rang the bell.

Almost immediately the dark hall was lighted by the switching on of lights. Then the door was opened, and Garrison beheld a squint-eyed, thin-lipped old man, who scowled upon him and remained there, barring his way.

"Good evening--is my wife at home--Mrs. Fairfax?" said Garrison, stepping in. "I wired her----"

"Jerold!" cried a voice, as the girl in the party-house had done. But this was Dorothy, half-way down the stairs, running toward him eagerly, and dressed in most exquisite taste.

Briskly stepping forward, ready with the role he had rehea.r.s.ed, he caught her in his arms as she came to the bottom of the stairs, and she kissed him like a sweet young wife, obeying the impulse of her nature.

"Oh, Jerold, I'm so glad!" she said. "I don't see why you have to go away at nine!"

She was radiant with blushes.

He recognized a cue.

"And how's the dearest little girl in all the world?" he said, handing her the box of confections. "I didn't think I'd be able to make it, till I wired. While this bit of important business lasts we must do the best we can."

He had thrown his arm about her carelessly. She moved away with a natural gesture towards the man who had opened the door.

"Oh, Jerold, this is my Uncle Sykey--Mr. Robinson," she said. "He and Aunt Jill have come to pay me a visit. We must all go upstairs to the parlor."

She was pale with excitement, but her acting was perfect.

Garrison turned to the narrow-eyed old man, who was scowling darkly upon him.

"I'm delighted to meet you," he said, extending his hand.

"Um! Thank you," said Robinson, refusing his hand. "Extraordinary honeymoon you're giving my niece, Mr. Fairfax."

His manner nettled Garrison, who could not possibly have gauged the depth of the old man's dislike, even hatred, conceived against him simply as Dorothy's husband.

A greeting so utterly uncordial made unlooked-for demands upon his wits.

"The present arrangement will not endure very long," he said significantly. "In the meantime, if Dorothy is satisfied there seems to be no occasion for anyone else to feel distressed."

"If that's intended as a fling at me----" started Robinson, but Dorothy interrupted.

"Please come upstairs," she said, laying her hand for a moment on Garrison's shoulder; and then she ran up lightly, looking back with all the smiles of perfect art.

Garrison read it as an invitation to a private confidence, much needed to put him properly on guard. He bounded up as if in hot pursuit, leaving her uncle down there by the door.

She fled to the end of the upper hall, near a door that was closed.

Garrison had lost no s.p.a.ce behind her. She turned a white, tense face as she came to a halt.

"Be careful, please," she whispered. "Some of my relatives appeared here unexpectedly this afternoon. I had to wire on that account. Get away just as soon as you can. You are merely pa.s.sing through the city.

You must write me daily letters while they are here--and--don't forget who you are supposed to be!"

She was radiant again with blushes. Garrison was almost dazzled by her beauty. What reply he might have made was interrupted. Dorothy caught him by the hand, like a fond young bride, as her uncle came rapidly up the stairs. The door was opened at his elbow by a white-haired, almost "bearded" woman, large, sharp-sighted, and ugly, with many signs of both inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness upon her.

"So, that's your Mr. Fairfax," she said to Dorothy. "Come in here till I see what you're like."

Dorothy had again taken Garrison's arm. She led him forward.

"This is Aunt Jill," she said, by way of introduction and explanation.