The Silver Butterfly Part 18

"Yes, you've simply got to go," she said firmly in reply to his protestations. "The decorators will be here any minute and then we'll begin to do things. You'll really be much happier at a club or on the streets, anywhere rather than here, for if you insist on staying, you'll be chased from pillar to post. You won't be able to find such a thing as a quiet corner in the whole apartment. Now go, just as quickly as you can."

Meekly he obeyed, humbly grateful that Tatsu was allowed to remain. He could trust Tatsu's diplomacy and powers of resource to save his cherished possessions, and ultimately to restore a seemly order from the chaos, he was sure that Kitty and her decorators would create. On the whole, he succeeded in putting in about as stupid and empty a day as he had expected, perhaps because he had expected it, but late in the afternoon, as he was strolling up the Avenue in the direction of home, he espied, with a feeling of genuine pleasure, the figure of Mrs. Habersham a few paces ahead of him. The prospect of her society, if only for a block or so, was a welcome relief to him. He felt rather aggrievedly that he had been the prey of bores during the entire day, skilfully escaping one, only to be firmly b.u.t.ton-holed by another. Therefore he quickened his steps to overtake Mrs. Habersham, whom he had always found especially sympathetic and sincere.

She, on her part, seemed delighted to see him. "I am just on my way home to dress for your dinner," she said, "and I wanted a bit of a walk first.

Don't you feel the spring in the air?"

"Winter contradicts your statement," laughed Hayden, as a cutting wind caused her to s.h.i.+ver and draw her furs more closely about her throat.

"He can't deny those harbingers of spring anyway, no matter how hard he tries," she waved her hand toward a florist's window full of jonquils, daffodils, lilacs, and lilies-of-the-valley. "Oh," with a change of subjects. "I have been hearing on every side of Mrs. Ames' luncheon yesterday. It has a.s.sumed such importance as a topic of conversation, that it is now spoken of as 'the luncheon.' There is fame for you! Why truly," laughing softly, "my curiosity was aroused to such an extent that I have just been up to see Marcia and get all the details."

"Then you have seen Miss Oldham to-day?" Hayden attempted to infuse into his tones, merely polite, superficial interest; what he really put into them was an eager longing to hear of his b.u.t.terfly lady.

"I have just come from her," said Bea Habersham, "I do hope she will be more like herself this evening!"

"Like herself!" Hayden wheeled sharply. "Why, what do you mean? Is she not well? Is she ill?" He could not conceal his anxiety.

"Oh, dear me, no." Mrs. Habersham rea.s.sured him with a smile. "Not ill at all, not in the least. It was only--"

"Only what?" insisted Hayden.

"Only that she seemed a bit--well, overwrought, not quite like herself."

"How overwrought? Do tell me just how she appeared to you. I feel as if you were keeping something back," urged Robert.

"Nonsense. You are building up a great mountain out of a very insignificant mole-hill," reproved Bea with a smile. "It is quite absurd.

I see, however," with a resigned smile, "that you will never be satisfied unless I go into the most elaborate details and tell you just how she looked and just what she said."

"Oh, please," so simply and earnestly, that her heart was touched and she gave him one of her rarest and most sympathetic smiles.

"Very well, to begin then," Bea spoke with a.s.sumed patience. "Of course, I feel exactly as if I were in the witness box, but what will one not do for one's friends. Then to be quite circ.u.mstantial: This afternoon, I stopped at the Oldhams. Marcia was fortunately at home, and I noticed at once that she was looking rather down in the mouth, and was very distrait. She seemed in rather a peculiar state, to alternate from a mood of excitement to one of depression, and more than once while I was talking to her, I saw the tears well up to her eyes. I, at first, thought that her mother had been bothering her, for that Venus was in one of her most exacting and fractious moods, but I soon came to the conclusion that that was not the root of the trouble. Fortunately, Marcia and I were alone for a short time before I left and I endeavored to find out what was weighing on her mind. Not from curiosity, believe me, but because I felt convinced that something of more than usual importance had disturbed her poise.

"She would not really unburden herself to me, Marcia is so reticent and self-contained, you know; but she did admit that she was greatly worried.

From the various things she said, I was able to piece out some facts, and you are welcome to them, although, I must confess that I think they throw very little light upon the matter."

"Do let me know them!" begged Hayden. "You know, of course, dear Mrs.

Habersham, that I can not bear to hear of her being unhappy or distressed, and I should like nothing in all the world so much as to feel that I could be of some a.s.sistance to her."

"I am sure of that," said Bea sweetly; "but to go on. After her mother left the room, I asked Marcia if she were quite well. She looked a little surprised at the question, and then said: 'Yes, oh, yes,' but in the most languid and listless of manners. And all the time that I was talking to her, her mind seemed to be far, far away, as if she were working constantly over some problem, trying to think it out. To tell the truth, she really did not look ill; but just--well, just frightened. That is about the only way I can express it. She really looked frightened."

"But what could possibly have frightened her?" frowned Hayden. "Did she give you any clue?"

"None whatever. As I say, she seemed to be thinking of something else, all the time she was speaking to me of perfectly extraneous subjects, until at last, I felt that I was taxing her powers of self-command, and that the kindest thing I could do was to leave her to herself, since she would not give me her confidence."

"Strange," murmured Hayden. "But don't you think it was probably some absurd or tyrannical action of her mother's that caused her unhappiness?"

"It wasn't exactly unhappiness," objected Mrs. Habersham. "It was more as if she had had some kind of a shock, and could not immediately recover from it. Of course, I am only giving you my impressions, but it was more as if she feared something, and this fear, whatever it was, grew instead of decreasing."

"Did you happen to learn how she had been putting in her time all day?"

Hayden's mind went back to that telegram which had been handed Mademoiselle Mariposa at the luncheon the day before, the telegram from the mysterious man, a message of interest to both Ydo and Marcia. Could that have anything to do with Marcia's present state of mind? He recalled the puzzled and faintly alarmed gaze she had turned first on the Mariposa and then on himself at the conclusion of the luncheon yesterday, and instead of finding any light in these reflections, he seemed to plunge deeper into the darkness.

He shook his head slowly, completely perplexed.

"Did she tell you how she had put in her day?" he repeated.

"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 friends.h.i.+p 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 encompa.s.sed 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 a.n.a.lysis 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 a.s.serts 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.

"But good gracious! if I'm to be at your dinner on time, I've got to be hurrying home, don't you think? Look at that darkening sky! By the way, I hope Edith Symmes will not spoil the effect of everything with some terrible gown. Horace Penfield says that he has seen it and that it is the most awful thing she has yet perpetrated."

Hayden could not forbear laughing. "Horace misled you," he said, "he told us all about it at the luncheon yesterday. He had just been at her dressmaker's with her to look at it. He says it is really the most atrocious thing he has ever seen; but," triumphantly, "it will not grace my humble dinner. It is being saved for a far more important occasion--your ball."

"Oh, my goodness!" gasped Bea. "Well," firmly, "I shall put a flea in Edith's ear. She must call a halt. She is simply letting that crazy imagination of hers run rampant. I shall speak to her to-night."

CHAPTER XV

During the ten days allowed her for preparation Kitty continued charmed with Hayden's idea of a b.u.t.terfly dinner. It suited her volatile fancy.

Her enthusiasm remained at high pitch, and she exerted herself to the utmost in behalf of her favorite cousin. As a consequence, although she made a pretense of consulting Hayden about the various arrangements, the final results were almost as much of a surprise to him as to the rest of the guests, and as he walked through his rooms at the last moment he admitted to himself that Kitty really had surpa.s.sed herself.

Yellow and violet orchids fluttered everywhere, carrying out the b.u.t.terfly effect; and while he stood admiring their airy and unsubstantial grace, Kitty floated in followed by Hampton, thin and kindly, with more of an expression of interest than he usually wore.

"Why, Kitty," cried Hayden, shaking hands with Hampton, "you look exactly like a b.u.t.terfly, a lovely little blue b.u.t.terfly attracted here by the flowers."

"But that is what I am," Kitty answered him triumphantly. "A blue b.u.t.terfly. Don't you see my long wing-sleeves? And look at the blue b.u.t.terflies in my hair! Oh," as Mrs. Habersham came in, "here is Bea.

Isn't she gorgeous?"

Bea herself was the affirmative answer to that question. She was indeed gorgeous, a splendid brown b.u.t.terfly with all kinds of iridescent effects gleaming through her gauzes. Dark velvet outlined her skirt and floating sleeves, and dark antennae stood upright from the coils of her hair.