Carolina Lee

by Lilian Bell

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE TURN OF THE WHEEL

  A week later St. Quentin dropped in at Mrs. Lee's for a cup of tea. Hewould have preferred to have Carol brew it, for she had not only learnedhow in Russia, but had brought with her a brand of tea which, to St.Quentin's mind, was not to be ignored for mere conversation, and oncedrunk, was not to be forgotten. When Mrs. Lee was out, Carol dispensedthis tea, but when Addie was in her own house, she was mistress of it inmore ways than tea-drinking.

  St. Quentin found several people there for whom he had little use, so hesat silent until they had gone and no one except Kate, Adelaide, andCarol were left.

  Carol was wearing a pale blue velvet gown trimmed with sable and apicture hat with a long white ostrich plume which swept her shoulder.Both St. Quentin and Kate plied her with admiring comments until Addiecould bear it no longer, and excused herself with unnatural abruptness.

  "There are more ways than one of killing a cat," murmured St. Quentin,stooping for Kate's immense ermine muff, which she had dropped for thethird time, "than by choking it to death with cream."

  Kate laughed delightedly.

  Carolina turned from the doorway.

  "Don't go, either of you," she said. "I am only going for some tea.Noel, ring for some more hot water, will you?"

  "I wonder how it would be," said Kate, dreamily, "to be born without anyrelations at all! Could one manage to be happy, do you think?"

  "Carol couldn't. She is very fond of Sherman."

  "I wouldn't be fond of any brother who had lost all his own fortune andmine and was millions in debt besides. One couldn't love a fool, youknow."

  "I know. But do you remember what Carol said about wanting to be poor?"

  "Of course I remember!" said Kate, "but I d-didn't believe her then andI d-don't believe her now. Carol was s-simply lying--that's the answerto that!"

  "Lying about what?" asked Carolina, reentering, with a square box in herhand. The box was of old silver, heavily carved and set with turquoise.

  "Lying about being g-glad Sherman has lost all your money. Of courseyou were lying, w-weren't you? No-nobody but a raving maniac could beglad to be p-poor."

  "Then I am a raving maniac," said Carolina, pouring the delicatelybrewed tea carefully into the tall, slender glasses. "Lemon or rum,Kate?"

  "W-which will I like best? I--I've had four cups already to-day."

  "Then you'd better have rum. It makes you sleep when you have had toomuch tea."

  "Lemon for me, please," said St. Quentin.

  "I remembered that," said Carolina, smiling. "And three lumps."

  "P-put in some m-more rum, Carol. I can't taste it."

  "What a Philistine!" cried St. Quentin. "To insult such tea with rum."

  "It's quite g-good," murmured Kate, with her glass to her lips. "Wheny-you have enough of it."

  "So you really think I can't mean it when I tell you I am glad thatSherman has lost all our money?" said Carolina. "Of course I am sorryon Addie's account--she cares a great deal and is quite miserable overher future prospects. But she has ten thousand a year from her ownestate, so she can still educate the children and get along in somedegree of comfort. But as for me"--she leaned forward in her chair withthe whimsical idea of testing their calibre kindling in her eyes--"ifyou will believe me and will not scoff, I will tell you what my planis."

  "Promise," said Kate, briefly.

  "If Sherman can manage it, I want," said Carolina, slowly, but with anodd gleam in her eye, "to buy an abandoned farm in New England and raisechickens."

  In spite of her promise, Kate looked at the beautiful face and figure ofthe girl in blue velvet and sables who said this, and burst into ashriek of laughter, which St. Quentin, after a moment's decorousstruggle, joined.

  "I know," said Carolina, leaning back, still with that curious look inher eyes. "I know it sounds absurd. I know you are thinking of me outfeeding chickens in these clothes. But oh, if you only knew how tired Iam of--of everything that my life has held hitherto. If you only knewhow unhappy I am! If you only knew how I want a farm with pigs andchickens and cows and horses. If you only knew how I long to plantthings and see them grow. But above everything else in the world, ifyou only knew how I want a dark blue print dress! I saw a country girlin one once when I was a child in England, and I've never been reallyhappy since."

  She joined in the burst of laughter which followed.

  "But do things grow on farms in New England?" asked Kate. "And isn'tthat just why so many are abandoned?"

  "I suppose so," answered Carolina, "but those are the only ones whichare cheap, and chickens don't need a rich soil. All you've got to do isto--"

  "I'd go South," interrupted Kate, "or to California, where the c-climatewould help some. I've read in the papers how farmers suffer when theircrops fail. I--I'd hate to think of you suffering if your turnipsdidn't sprout properly, Carol!"

  "Laugh if you want to, but I'll get my farm in some way."

  "How about the old Lee estate in South Carolina?" asked St. Quentin.

  For the first time in his life St. Quentin was actually conscious thatCarolina was mocking him. The thought was startling. Why should shedissemble? Carolina's face fell, and a trace of bitterness crept intoher voice. This seemed so natural that he forgot his curious suspicion.

  "I suppose that went, too. I haven't questioned Sherman, but he told meeverything was gone. That, although the house was burned during the war,and only the land itself remained, is the only thing I regret about ourloss. I did love Guildford."

  "But you never saw it!" exclaimed Kate.

  Carolina's eye flashed with enthusiasm.

  "I know that! Nevertheless, I love it as I love no spot on earthto-day."

  There was a little pause, full of awkwardness for the two who hadaccidentally brought Carolina's loss home to her. To Carolina itbrought home a sense of real guilt. If she had believed that Guildfordwas lost she would have screamed aloud and gone mad before their veryeyes. She was almost afraid to juggle with the truth even to protecther sacred enthusiasm from their profane eyes.

  It was St. Quentin who spoke first.

  "I can understand wanting a farm or country estate in England," hebegan. "I myself enjoy the thought of thatched roofs and cattlestanding knee-deep in waving, grassy meadows; of tired farm horses; ofmugs of ale and thick slices of bread and the sweat of honest toil--"

  "On another person's brow!" interrupted Carolina. "You want your farmfinished. I want to make mine. I want to see it grow. I almostbelieve when it was complete, that I would want to leave it."

  "You'd want to leave it long before that," cried Kate.

  "Oh, can't you understand my idea?" cried Carolina, with sudden passion."I want to get back to Nature and sit in the lap of my mother earth!"

  St. Quentin nodded his head.

  "I do understand," he said, "and _apropos_ of your idea, I have a pieceof news for you."

  Carolina looked at him distrustfully.

  "You will take that look back when you hear," he said, with a trifle ofreproach in his tone. "I know you expect no help from any ofus--discouragements, rather--but I have only to-day heard of businesswhich calls me to Maine, and as I expect to be obliged to wait there afortnight, I will devote that time to looking up a farm for yourpurpose."

  "You will?" cried Carolina, in a faint voice. Her deception was alreadytripping her up.

  Kate looked at him with undisguised amazement, mingled with a littlereluctant contempt.

  St. Quentin's eyes dilated when he saw the flash of personal interest inCarolina's demeanour. Her eyes and voice and manner all underwent asubtle but delightful change. For the first time, although he wasdistantly related to her family and had known her since childhood, sheseemed to approach him of her own accord. Hitherto her fine sense ofpride had kept her individuality inviolate. She was not a girl topermit familiarity even from an intimate. She
seemed to hold aloof evenfrom Kate's verbal impertinences, but this was largely due to the factthat Kate's own nature was such that she never attempted to break downthe barriers in deeds. There was always a dignified reserve betweenthem--a respect for each other's privacy, which was the foundation fortheir friendship. One of the greatest proofs of this was that neitherhad ever thought of suggesting that they spend the night together, withthe result that they had never exchanged indiscreet secrets.

  Of the relations in which St. Quentin stood to the two; neither hadgiven any particular thought until that moment. Kate surprised the lookin St. Quentin's eyes and the response in Carolina's attitude. Carolinahad never appeared to her friend "so nearly human," as she expressed itto herself, as at that moment. It gave her two distinct shocks ofsurprise. One, that Carolina was, for the first time in her life,really interested in something, and therefore she was honest in wishingto be poor and left free to pursue her idea. The other, and a far moredisquieting one, was the fact that St. Quentin's glance at Carolina hadbrought a distinct pang to Kate's heart.

  She regarded both emotions with dismay. They threatened an upheaval inher life.

  She dropped her muff, and, as St. Quentin did not even see it, shestooped hastily for it herself, murmuring:

  "That let's me down hard!" But with characteristic energy she wasted notime in repining nor even in analyzing her emotions. She was not yetsure whether she was experiencing wounded vanity or the first pangs of alove-affair. She was extraordinarily healthy-minded and instinctivelyloyal.

  It was this latter feeling which prompted her to leave herself out ofthe matter, for the present, at least, and to be sure wherein lay herfriend's happiness before she proceeded further.

  As she and St. Quentin left the house together, they met Sherman Leejust coming up the steps, looking pale and anxious.

  "Is Carol at home?" he inquired, eagerly, and before they could reply,added, "and alone?"

  "Yes, she is," answered Kate, "and if you hurry, you will be in time toget a cup of tea."

  He thanked them and ran hastily up the steps.

  "How I admire a woman's tact," said St. Quentin, giving her a gratefulglance.

  "How do you mean?" asked Kate to gain time, though the quick colour flewto her face.

  "My man's first idea would have been to ask Sherman what the matterwas--he was plainly distraught--"

  "And to offer to help him!" said Kate.

  "Perhaps. But your woman's quickness leaped ahead of my blunderingintentions with the instinctive knowledge that any cognizance of hismanner, no matter how friendly, would be unwelcome. Therefore you senthim away with the comforting assurance in his mind that we had noticednothing amiss. Thus, in an instant, you saved the feelings and keptintact the _amour propre_ of two men."

  "That's what women are for!" said Kate, bluntly.