The Silver Butterfly

by Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

  CHAPTER XVII

  Hayden was half ill when he left Ydo's apartment. He felt a curiousstifling sensation, a longing for air and motion and so strong was thisfeeling that he decided to dismiss the motor and walk home; but he hadproceeded only a block or so, when he noticed an electric brougham drawup to the sidewalk. His heart gave a quick throb for he saw that Marcia'schauffeur was driving; but a moment later, his hopes were turned todisappointment, for instead of Marcia's dear face, the somewhat worn andworried countenance of her mother gazed out.

  The moment she caught a glimpse of him, she brightened perceptibly andwith a quick motion summoned him. Almost mechanically he made his wayacross the crowded sidewalk and took the hand she extended.

  "Oh, Mr. Hayden," with a plaintive quaver in her voice, "won't you driveabout a little with me? I must talk to some one. I must have adviceand--and the sympathy that I know your generous heart will be only tooready to give. It may be unconventional to ask you, and I may be takingup far too much of your valuable time. You will tell me frankly if thisis so, will you not?"

  Hayden murmured a polite protest, and expressed his appreciation of theprivilege in a few words, scarcely conscious of what he was saying, andthen sank into the seat beside her, inwardly lamenting his stupidity thathe had so impulsively dismissed his waiting taxicab.

  "So unconventional!" again murmured the lady as he took his seat, "butthen, I am all impulse and intuition. As Mr. Oldham has so often said tome, 'I would rather depend on your intuitions than on the reasoning ofthe wisest statesmen.' Very, very absurd of him, and yet so dear and inone sense, true."

  "True in all senses," said Hayden with the gallantry expected of him.This Venus Victrix was not so critical as to cavil at the manifest effortin his tones. Let it be forced or spontaneous, a compliment was acompliment to her.

  "Mr. Hayden, Robert, if I may call you so, I am very, very unhappy thismorning, and--and I have no one, no one to console or comfort me."

  Hayden felt a quick impulse of pity, for there was that in her speech andappearance which convinced him that she really was fretting oversomething, and he saw that under her careful powder and rouge her facelooked worn and worried.

  "Dear Mrs. Oldham," he said with the effect at least of his naturalmanner, "I am sure you are bothering. Will you not tell me why and let meat least try and be of some service to you? You know that I shall be onlytoo delighted to have you make me useful in any way that you can."

  He spoke with sincere earnestness, for the small, frail creature besidehim, her Dresden-china prettiness all faded and eclipsed, her coquetryextinguished, roused in him a sense of pity and protection.

  "Ah, Mr. Hayden, Robert,--you gave me permission to call you Robert, didyou not?--you are too, too kind," She leaned her head back against thecushions and carefully dabbled her eyes with her handkerchief.

  "Now please, do not think of that," he urged; "just consider what apleasure it is to me to be of service to you."

  "Ah," she threw aside all pretense now, and turning to him clutched hisarm, "the most terrible things have been happening and I have had to bearthem all alone. Marcia," petulantly, "has left me to bear all thingsalone. She did not come home at all last night, but Kitty Hamptontelephoned quite late, after I had gone to bed, that she would spend thenight at her, Kitty's, home. Fancy! Rousing me from my sleep like that!And then, early this morning, Marcia telephoned herself and said that shecould not possibly be at home before evening. Imagine! Thethoughtlessness, the heartlessness of such a thing!

  "But that," resignedly, "that was a mere drop in the bucket. I wish herfather were alive! How he would tower in indignation at the thought of mybeing so neglected and ignored, and by my own daughter, too,--a girl onwhose education he lavished a fortune! Why, Mr. Hayden, forgive me,Robert, he would turn in his grave, literally turn in his grave, and"--ina burst of fitful weeping--"he may be quite aware of it, for all we know,and he may be turning in his grave at this very minute."

  "Dear Mrs. Oldham," the late and ever lamented Oldham himself, could nothave been more sympathetic, "you must have been very lonely indeed, andvery much bored, I can quite understand that, but surely, you are notmaking yourself unhappy over this--this seeming neglect on the part ofyour daughter. Believe me, you will find that she has some good reasonfor this action. Surely that is not the only thing that is worrying you."

  "Certainly not," The little lady tossed her head and spoke with emphasis."Marcia's selfishness and thoughtlessness and indifference toward one whoshould be the dearest thing on earth to her is very hard to bear, very;but I am not made of the stuff that could break under an affliction ofthat kind. Mr. Oldham used so often to say that he never saw suchfortitude and courage, never dreamed that such qualities existed in womenuntil he knew me, and saw the way I met trouble. Oh, no indeed," againdabbling her eyes, "that is not it at all. No, my only feeling aboutMarcia's conduct is that I have been left to bear intolerable grief andInsult alone."

  "Intolerable grief and insult alone!" Hayden really roused himself. "Mydear Mrs. Oldham, those are strong words. What can possibly havehappened?"

  "That is just it. It is a case requiring strong words," she said firmly."Who do you think paid me a visit this morning? Why, Lydia Ames, whohasn't darkened my doors since Wilfred became interested in Marcia. Theidea!" overcome by indignation. "What did she want? A princess of theblood? Apparently not! She wants instead a fortune-teller, a madcap likeYdo Carrothers. She spent the whole time this morning telling me howcharming and fascinating Ydo was and what a fillip she gave to life. Itold her frankly that I had been very thoroughly acquainted with Miss YdoCarrothers from her youth up, and that she would be a handful for anyone. I'd as lief undertake to chaperone a cyclone. She only chuckled inthat disagreeable way of hers and spoke of Wilfred's admiration for thatGipsy. When, Robert--you see I was able to say it that time--when everyone has been talking, for the past year of Wilfred's devotion to Marcia.Such a dear fellow and so rich! I loved him like a son; and now, now theyWill say that he has jilted her, jilted Marcia, and you know, Robert, agirl never recovers from that sort of thing.

  "And then, Lydia Ames, horrid thing, said, oh, how can I tell it, thatshe was anxious to present Ydo, Ydo Carrothers, forsooth, with a set ofbutterflies as beautiful as Marcia's. Oh, Mr. Hay-- Robert, did you, didyou ever hear of anything so cruel? Oh, I tried not to think she had anyparticular reason for saying it, when in walked Edith Symmes, EdithSymmes of all people, and do you know, Robert, she began to get off thesame thing."

  She paused to let the enormity of this sink into his consciousness. Thetears were streaming down her face, a mask of tragedy, and Hayden couldonly gaze at her in profound perplexity.

  "I'm afraid, I don't know quite what you mean," he said slowly.

  So absorbed was she with her grief that she did not appear to have heardhim. "You know how malicious they both are," she wailed, "and both ofthem coming at the same time meant something. 'Talking of butterflies'?Edith Symmes said in that way of hers, 'Well, Mrs. Oldham, you needn'tput on such airs because Marcia has the loveliest set in town; nor you,Mrs. Ames, because you're thinking of ordering a set, for I'm going tohave a set myself,' Oh, you see, it meant something."

  "Mrs. Oldham," said Hayden with the calmness of desperation, "will younot kindly tell me just what you mean? I am utterly and entirely at sea."

  "They mustn't know the secret of those detestable butterflies," sheanswered miserably.

  "What secret, Mrs. Oldham?"

  "Why, the way Marcia is involved. Oh," weeping afresh, "it's too, toomuch. Oh, if Mr. Oldham were only here!"

  It was impossible to get a coherent explanation from her, and Hayden feltas if he could bear no more. He had only one desire, one longing, toescape, to be alone, to sit down in some quiet spot, and try to pullhimself together sufficiently to think things out.

  "Dear Mrs. Oldham," he said gently, "I am convinced that you are worryingyourself unnecessarily. Won't you go home now and rest, and let me seeyou this eveni
ng or to-morrow? I am sure you will then take a calmer viewof the matter. I am going to leave you now. I have some business matterswhich must be attended to at once. Good-by."