CHAPTER III
We will leave Mabel embarked on her desperate career of utterselfishness and return to Claire Maslin.
When Rosanna and Helen and pretty Elise went to call on her they foundher rooms had been marvelously changed from the stiff appearance ofhotel suites by the gorgeous draperies and scarfs and table coversplaced wherever they could possibly be put. A faint, sweet, orientalodor seemed to come from them, and the soft-stepping Chinaman whoushered them in seemed to be part of a dream. Claire looked modernenough, however, in her kilted skirt of big green plaid, soft silkshirtwaist and dull green sweater. Her face was as impassive as ever,but she seemed to think that as hostess something more than silence wasrequired of her, and she talked in a very friendly and entertainingmanner.
Elise, always thoughtful of little courtesies, asked almost at once ifthey might meet Madame, her mother, and the girls were filled with pitywhen Claire replied that her mother was an invalid and was away at asanitarium. It was clear that Claire in her silent, repressed way felther mother's illness very deeply. She changed the subject at once.Little by little, however, the girls gleaned the bare facts of her life.She had been born in the Philippines, and had traveled from post to postand from country to country with her parents until the time of hermother's illness. There was a gap in her story there, but later she wentwith her father, the Colonel. Her own maid, who took charge of the housewhen they had one, was a serious looking New England woman about sixtyyears old. The Chinaman too went with them everywhere.
"We expect to move tomorrow," said Claire. "Papa has found a nice houseway up on Third Street. It is furnished, so we will not have to unpackour things."
"You look unpacked now," said Helen, glancing at the gorgeous silks andcushions that were scattered around.
"Oh, no, we just take a trunk full of these with us so wherever we stopthe rooms will seem like home to us. Papa and I both hate hotel rooms.They all look alike with their stuffy furniture and dreadful curtains.It does not take Chang long to fix everything and we are much morecomfortable. I think we will like the new house." Then she added rathershyly, "I hope you will all come to see me very, very often. Papa wantsme to know all of you. I don't like girls very well."
The three girls stared in amazement. She didn't like _girls_! And shewas willing to tell them so! Elise lifted her eyebrows. It was so rude.
Helen Culver laughed. "Why do you bother with us if you do not like us?"she demanded.
Claire was blushing. "I should not have said that," she confessedbluntly. "I don't mean to say what I think. You must excuse me forsaying it."
"And we will forgive you for having such a heart for us," said Elise,smiling. "I know how you will feel soon. At least for these two dearones. You will love them so much."
"It is such a beautiful day," said Rosanna, to change the conversation,"why can't we all take a ride? Perhaps you would like to see our parks."
"I have seen everything," said Claire wearily. "I have done nothing butride ever since we came to Louisville. But every afternoon I drive up toCamp Taylor to get papa and it is now almost time to go. Won't you allcome with me? I do truly want you to, and papa wants so much to meetyou. Papa likes girls," she added with a smile.
"I think we should love to go," said Rosanna heartily. She wanted toaccept the first invitation that Claire gave, so she spoke quickly andnodded gaily to the girls. But it was a nod that they understood to mean"We will go." They were accustomed to the guiding nods of the wiselittle Rosanna.
Gliding smoothly along the beautiful roads in the luxurious limousine,the four girls chatted gaily. And returning, the talk and laughter waseven more spirited for they found Colonel Maslin to be all that onecould dream of or hope for in the way of a jolly, handsome father.Nothing would do but they must return to the hotel for afternoon tea,and Colonel Maslin's idea of tea was ordering all the goodies to befound on the menu card, and then a few more that the head waiter managedto think up. So it was a regular feast.
Then the Colonel and Claire insisted on driving them home, and ColonelMaslin went in and was introduced to each of their families. The girlsonly waited for the big Maslin car to be well on its way when with oneaccord they hurried over to Rosanna's.
"Well, what do you think?" demanded Helen.
"Claire's father, is he not most splendid?" asked Elise with a deep sighof appreciation.
"Yes, he is!" agreed Rosanna. "But Claire is the oddest girl that I eversaw. Did you notice how she sits and looks in one direction as thoughshe did not hear a word you were saying? And her eyes look perfectlydesperate!"
"She doesn't hear much that you say, at that," said Helen. "I watchedher. She has taken a great fancy to you, Rosanna."
"Dear me!" said Rosanna. "I almost wish she wouldn't! Whenever I look ather or think about her, it seems as though a cloud pressed down on meand choked me."
"Don't you like her?" asked Helen.
"Yes, in a way I do, but there is something so strange about her, and Ican't help the feeling that some way she is going to have an influenceon my life."
"Don't let her," said Helen calmly. "Do some influencing yourself. Inever let anyone influence me that way. Why, you will be awfullyuncomfortable if you feel as though that girl with her red hair andgreen eyes could turn you from your purpose in any way. Don't you lether! I am surprised at you, Rosanna!"
"I don't mean it in that way," said Rosanna. "She will not change me,Helen dear, but in some way or other--Oh, I can't tell what _I do_mean!"
"Too many tarts!" laughed Helen. "I confess she is a queer girl, but wedon't have to see much of her, and I doubt if we will. We have enoughwork coming along this spring without taking on any more than we haveto. I want to earn all the merits and emblems that I possibly can bysummer time, and I shall be a busy girl if I do it. And you want to do alot of Scout work, Elise, now that you have learned to speak English sonicely."
"_Merci_--I mean, thank you," said Elise. "Indeed I do much want to dosomething to benefit myself, and more to please our dear Captain. Andsomehow I think you are both seeing that strange Claire wrongly. I thinkthe cloud hangs over her, and she is most, most sad, most gloomy in itsshadow."
"Dear me, how mysterious!" said Helen. "To me, she seems just like anyother girl, except that she has gorgeous clothes and those queer greeneyes, and such wads and wads of hair, and that Chinaman, and all thosesplendid embroideries. And of course it is odd the way she sits andnever moves her hands but looks over your head as though there was somewriting on the wall."
"Perhaps there is," said Rosanna. "Like that man in the Bible, you know,who had a warning."
Rosanna, as she spoke, little dreamed that there _was_ writing on everywall, in every cloud, that poor Claire saw and read with a feeling ofhopeless horror.
Leaning close to his handsome daughter in the big luxurious limousine,Colonel Maslin was saying to her, "Well, Bird o' Paradise, how do youlike your new friends? Are they as friendly and fascinating as Kentuckygirls are supposed to be?"
"You met them," said Claire evenly. "What do you think?"
"A mere man isn't supposed to think," laughed Colonel Maslin. "They seemdelightful to me, so pretty and dainty and girlish. Stray sunbeams."
Claire laughed. "I should say you thought quite fully on the subject,daddy!"
"Well, they are all that I say, are they not?" asked the Colonel.
"Oh, yes!" and Claire leaned indifferently away from her father'sshoulder. He glanced at her and sighed. They entered the hotel insilence, each one busy with somber thoughts, and as the Chinaman closedthe door behind them Claire suddenly flung her gloves on the table witha gesture of impatience and turning to the Colonel said passionately:
"Father, look at me! Am I like those other girls? Do I look like them oract like them or talk like them? Is my heart like theirs? Oh, father, doyou suppose they ever have the fits of awful temper that I have, or dothe wild things I like to do? Just look at me, father! I am thirteenyears old, and I feel thirty. Why do you make me have a
nything to dowith them--those girls, I mean? We won't be friends, ever. It will bejust like it has always been on other Posts where you have beenstationed. You always want me to make friends with girls. And I hatethem! And sooner or later they find it out and they are shocked. I wishI could shock them worse than I do! I'd like to scream and dance andpull my hair at them!"
"Steady, Claire, steady!" said Colonel Maslin in a quiet level voice.
He tried to take his daughter's hands but she jerked away.
"Don't!" she exclaimed harshly. "Oh, father, can't you _see_ how it is?Can't you _see_ that they never, never like me? They look at my redhair, and they stare at Chang, and snub Nancy because they think that isthe way to treat my maid, and they like the candy you always bring me,but we are never _friends_. Oh, I hate them all: every one of them!Sunbeams you call them. Well, I feel like a streak of lightning, and Iwould like to _strike_ them!"
She beat her slender hands together violently, and crossing the roomflung herself down on a divan and covered her eyes. Her father, whitefaced and stern, followed her and seated himself on the edge of thedivan, although Claire lay rigid and tried to crowd him off.
Colonel Maslin was silent for a time, and when he spoke his voice wasvery sad.
"This is my fault, my child," he said. "When your mother was taken illand could not be with us, I could not face the loneliness of having youaway from me. Both your aunts insisted that I was wrong, but I wantedyou for comfort, my darling, so I took you with me. Later, when I shouldhave sent you to a good boarding-school, I did not have the courage. Youare old for your age, I confess it, yet in many ways you are a spoiledand undisciplined child, my dear. You make it very hard for me, for Ineed you and you fail me. Now I am going to ask one more favor of you.After that, after you have honestly tried to do what I ask you, we willconsider the subject closed for all time and you will go away toschool."
"You know I hate that worst of all!" cried Claire, lifting a stained andtearful face. "_Nothing_ but girls at school! Oh, father, why can't youlet me do what I want to do, just amuse myself my own way, when I am notstudying? You know I work hard at my books and music, and I don't _want_any friends. Girls are so curious, they always want to know things, andI am so afraid they will find out--"
"Our misfortune is not a disgrace, Claire," said her father in a voicethat shook in spite of his efforts to keep it steady. "And I want you tohave friends."
"Claller for Mlissie Claire," said Chang, coming silently from thetelephone.
"Another of them!" groaned Claire, sitting up. "Tell her I must beexcused."
"No," said Colonel Maslin sternly. "You promised to do what I asked, andI want to see you begin now--today. If after three months of honesteffort you still take no pleasure in the society of these girls, I willgive up the struggle and arrange your life in some different way. Come,Claire, do, _do_ try! You have given me your promise. A Maslin neverbreaks his word and I hold you to yours."
Claire looked up wearily. "Very well, father, I will really try. Who isit, Chang?"
"Mlieeis Blooster," said Chang in his pleasant sing-song voice.
"Oh, yes, I know that girl," said Claire. "She is a queer one. Ask herto come up, Chang."
Mabel, rather flustered over her adventure into the unknown mysteries ofthe big hotel, entered sedately and seated herself in the deepest andmost comfortable chair that she could choose. For once Claire had tolead the conversation, as Mabel spoke but little and seemed to expecther hostess to do the talking. Colonel Maslin, thinking that hispresence might keep the girls from getting on an easier footing, excusedhimself, and in a few minutes sent up from the office a huge box ofcandy.
Mabel did brighten at this and stayed long after the proper length of afirst call, while she ate candy and told her troubles, both real andimaginary, to her bored hostess. She finally told her of the task theCaptain had set for her. And at last Claire was interested. She listenedintently as Mabel droned on about her experiences.
"I don't think parents really understand their children," said Mabel,carefully choosing a large chocolate cream. "Of course it may bedifferent with you, but my mother certainly does not understand me atall. I am naturally very sensitive and love to read and dream, and Inever get well into a book without her reminding me of something horridand domestic that has to be done. I know I could write beautifully if Ihad time to collect my thoughts. And now that Captain Horton expects meto lead my own life regardless of others for a whole week, though ofcourse part of the time has gone, I thought I could write some trulybeautiful things. But nothing goes right. Of course mother does notknow that Captain Horton told me to try this and she never notices anychange in me, but she acts too queer for anything. She goes out all thetime, and doesn't do any sewing for us (I have a brother) and last nightshe was talking about a _career_! My brother ought to stop her, but hejust backs her right up."
"It is too bad," sympathized Claire, passing the candy. "My fatherdoesn't understand--"
"I think a parent's place is in the home," Mabel interrupted. She wasnot at all interested in Claire or her father. Like all selfish people,she talked for the pleasure of hearing herself. "But mother has changed.I suspect it is old age. She will be thirty-five her next birthday. Ihave three more days for my experiment, and then if I cannot live my ownlife at home I shall ask mother to arrange something different. I havealways wanted to be a bachelor girl. I read a story about one. She wrotefor the papers and made enormous sums and had a _sweet_ apartment, andwas so happy because she felt her soul was free. My, I must go! It isnearly supper time, and I think mother is going to have Parker Houserolls. I adore them. I had no idea I had stayed so long, but you are soentertaining and it is so nice to think we feel alike about leading ourown lives our own way, and all that."
Claire murmured a faint good-bye after her departing guest and floppedheavily down on the divan where she had so recently thrown herself intears.
She lay staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. A hazy question flittedthrough her mind. "Am I like that?" she asked herself. Then she laughedand dismissed the silly idea.
"What a dreadful girl!" she concluded. "Too dreadful! And father wantsme to bother with people like that!"
The Girl Scout's Triumph; or, Rosanna's Sacrifice Page 3