Revelations of a Wife Part 19

"Your mother has shown such eagerness for my society that no doubt she will be heartbroken if she awakens and finds that I am not here."

"That's right, slam my mother. Why didn't you say in the first place you couldn't bear to have her in the same house with you?"

"d.i.c.ky, you are most unjust," I began hotly, and then stopped horror-stricken.

"What is the matter, my son?" The incisive voice of my mother-in-law sounded from the door of her room.

"Go back to bed, mother," d.i.c.ky said hastily. "I'm awfully sorry we disturbed you."

"Disturbing me doesn't matter," she said decidedly, "but what you were saying does. I heard you mention me, and I naturally wish to know if I am the subject of this very remarkable conversation."

I know now where d.i.c.ky gets the sneering tone which sets me wild when he directs it against me. His mother's inflection is exactly like her son's. The contemptuous glance with which she swept me nerved me to speak to her in a manner which I had never dreamed I would use toward d.i.c.ky's mother.

"Mrs. Graham," I said, raising my head and returning her stare with a look equally cold and steady, "my husband"--I emphasized the words slightly--"and I are discussing something which cannot possibly concern you. You were not the subject of conversation, and your name was brought in by accident. I hope you will be good enough to allow us to finish our discussion."

My mother-in-law evidently knows when to stop. She eyed me steadily for a moment.

"d.i.c.ky," she said at last, and her manner of sweeping me out of the universe was superb, "in five minutes I wish to speak to you in my room."

"All right, mother." d.i.c.ky's tone was unsteady, and as his mother's door closed behind her I prepared myself to face his increased anger.

"How dared you to speak to my mother in that fas.h.i.+on?" he demanded hoa.r.s.ely.

When I am most angry, a diabolically aggravating spirit seems to possess me. I could feel it enmes.h.i.+ng me.

"Please don't be melodramatic, d.i.c.ky," I said mockingly, "and if you have quite finished, I will go."

"No, you won't, at least not until I have told you something," he snarled.

He sprang to my side, and seized my shoulder in a cruel grip that made me wince.

"We'll just have this out once for all," he said. "If you go out of this door you go out for good. I don't care for the role of complacent husband."

The insult left me deadly cold. I knew, of course, that d.i.c.ky was so blinded by rage and jealousy that he had no idea of what he was saying. But ungovernable as I knew his temper to be, he had pa.s.sed the limits of my forebearance.

"I will answer that speech in 10 minutes," I said and walked into my room again.

For I had come to a decision as startling as it was sudden. I hastily threw some most necessary things into a bag. Then I put a ten-dollar bill of the housekeeping money into my purse, resolving to send it back to d.i.c.ky as soon as I could get access to my own tiny bank account, the remnant of my teaching savings. Into a parcel I placed the rest of the housekeeping money, my wedding and engagement rings and the lavalliere which d.i.c.ky had given me as a wedding present. I put them in the back of the top drawer of my dressing table, for I knew if I handed them to d.i.c.ky in his present frame of mind he would destroy them. Then I walked steadily into the living room, bag in hand.

d.i.c.ky was nowhere to be seen, but I heard the murmur of voices in his mother's room. I went to the door and knocked. d.i.c.ky threw it open, his face still showing the marks of his anger.

"You will find the housekeeping money in the top drawer of my dressing table," I said calmly. "I will send you my address as soon as I have one, and you will please have Katie pack up my things and send them to me."

I turned and went swiftly to the door. As I closed it after me, I thought I heard d.i.c.ky cry out hoa.r.s.ely. But I did not stop.

XV

"BUT I LOVE YOU"

With my bag in my hand, I fairly fled down the stairs which led from our third floor apartment to the street. I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. Only one idea possessed me--to put as much s.p.a.ce as possible between me and the apartment which held my husband and his mother.

Reaching the street, I started to walk along it briskly. But, trembling as I was from the humiliating scene I had just gone through, I saw that I could not walk indefinitely, and that I must get to some place at once where I could be alone and think.

"Taxi, ma'am?"

A taxi whose driver evidently had been watching me in the hope of a fare rolled up beside me.

I dived into it gratefully. At least in its shelter I would be alone and safe from observation for a few minutes, long enough for me to decide what to do next.

"Where to, ma'am?"

I searched my memory wildly for a moment. Where to, indeed! But the chauffeur waited.

"Brooklyn Bridge," I said desperately.

"Very well, ma'am," and in another minute we were speeding swiftly southward.

As I cowered against the cus.h.i.+ons of the taxi, with burning cheeks and crushed spirit, I realized that my marriage with d.i.c.ky was not a yoke that I could wear or not as I pleased. It was still on my shoulders, heavy just now, but a burden that I realized I loved and could not live without.

And I had thought to end it all when I dashed out of the apartment!

I knew that I could have done nothing else but walk out after d.i.c.ky uttered his humiliating ultimatum. But I also knew d.i.c.ky well enough to realize that when he came to himself he would regret what he had done and try to find me. I must make it an easy task for him.

So I decided my destination quickly. I would go to my old boarding place, where my mother and I had lived and where I had first met d.i.c.ky. My kindly old landlady, Mrs. Stewart, was one of my best friends. Without telling too broad a falsehood, I could make her believe I had come to spend the night with her. The next day, I hoped, would solve its own problems.

"This is the bridge entrance, ma'am." The chauffeur's voice broke my revery. I had made my decision just in time.

How fortunate it was that I had chosen the Brooklyn Bridge destination! I had only to walk up the stairs to the elevated train that took me within three squares of Mrs. Stewart's home.

"Bless your heart, child, but I am glad to see you!" was Mrs.

Stewart's hearty greeting. Then she glanced at my bag. I hastened to explain.

"Mr. Graham's mother is with us, so I haven't any scruples about leaving him alone," I said lightly. "It's so far over here I thought I would stay the night with you, so that we could have the good long visit I promised you when I was here last."

"That's splendid," she agreed heartily, "and I'll wager you can't guess who's here."

My prophetic soul told me the answer even before I saw the tall figure emerge from an immense easy chair which had effectually concealed him.

I was to bid Jack good-by after all.

Mrs. Stewart closed the door behind her softly as Jack came over to my side.

"What is the matter, Margaret?" he said tensely.

"Nothing at all." I told the falsehood gallantly, but it did not convince Jack.