PART THREE
THE GREAT EMOTION
I
Mrs. Alan Hosack, bearing a more than ever remarkable resemblance tothose ship's figureheads that are still to be seen in the corners ofold lumber yards, led the way out to the sun porch. Her lavish charms,her beaming manner, her clear blue eye, milky complexion, reddish hair,and the large bobbles and beads with which she insisted upon decoratingherself made Howard Cannon's nickname of Cornucopia exquisitely right.She was followed by Mrs. Cooper Jekyll and a man servant, whose armswere full of dogs and books and newspapers.
"The dogs on the ground, Barrett," she said, "the books and papers onthe table there, my chair on the right-hand side of it and bring thatchair forward for Mrs. Jekyll. We will have the lemonade at once. TellLestocq that I shall not want the car before lunch, ask Miss Disberryto telephone to Mrs. John Ward Harrison and say that I will have teawith her this afternoon with pleasure, and when those two good littleSisters of Mercy finally arrive,--I could see them, all sandy,struggling along the road from my room, Augusta; dear me, what alife,--they are to be given luncheon as usual and the envelope that ison the hall table. That will do, I think."
The man servant was entirely convinced that it would.
"And now, make yourself comfortable, dear Augusta, and tell meeverything. So very kind of you to drive over like this on such a sunnymorning. Yes, that's right. Take off that lugubrious Harem veil,--themark of a Southampton woman,--and let me see your beautiful face.Before I try to give you a chance to speak I must tell you, and I'msure you won't mind with your keen sense of humor, how that nice boy,Harry Oldershaw, describes those things. No, after all, perhaps I don'tthink I'd better. For one reason, it was a little bit undergraduate,and for another, I forget." She chuckled and sat down, wabbling for amoment like an opulent blancmange.
Minus the strange dark blue thing which had hidden her ears and noseand mouth and which suggested nothing but leprosy, Mrs. Jekyll becamehuman, recognizable and extremely good to look at. She wore hertight-fitting suit of white flannel like a girl and even in that cleardetective light she did not look a day over thirty. She painted withall the delicacy of an artist. She was there, as a close friend ofAlice Palgrave, to discover why Gilbert had not gone with her to theMaine coast.
"I haven't heard from you since we left town," she said, beating aboutthe bush, "and being in the neighborhood I thought it would bedelightful to catch a glimpse of you and hear your news. I have none,except that I have just lost the butler who has been with me for solong, and Edmond is having his portrait painted again for some club orinstitution. It's the ninth time, I believe. He likes it. It's a sortof rest cure."
"And how did you lose that very admirable butler? Illness orindiscretion?"
"Neither. Commerce, I suppose one might call it. It appears that one ofthese get-rich-quick munition men offered him double his wages to leaveme, and Derbyshire couldn't resist it. He came to me with tears in hiseyes and told me that he had to make the sacrifice owing to theincreased cost of living. He has a family, you know. He said that thecomic atmosphere of his new place might bring on neuritis, but he musteducate his three boys. Really, there is a great deal of unsung heroismin the world, isn't there? In the meantime, I am trying to getaccustomed to a Swiss, who's probably a German spy and who will set upa wireless installation on the roof." Then she dropped her baited hook."You have a large house party, I suppose."
"Yes," said Mrs. Hosack, swinging her foot to keep the flies away. Thewind was off the land.
"Primrose is so depressed if the house isn't full. And so the d'Oylysare here,--Nina more Junoesque than ever and really quite like anAmazon in bathing clothes; Enid Ouchterlony, a little bitter, I'mafraid, at not being engaged to any one yet,--men are horribly scaredof an intelligent girl and, after all, they don't marry forintelligence, do they?--Harry Oldershaw, Frank Milwood and CourtneyMillet, all nice boys, and I almost forgot to add, Joan Gray, thatcharming girl. My good man is following at her heels like a bob-tailedsheep dog. Poor old dear! He's arrived at that pathetic period of aman's life when almost any really blond girl still in her teensswitches him into a second state of adolescence and makes him a mostridiculous object--what the novelists call the 'Forty-nine feeling,' Ibelieve."
Bennett brought the lemonade and hurried away before his memory couldbe put to a further strain. "Tell me about Joan Gray," said Mrs.Jekyll, letting out her line. "There's probably no truth in it, but Ihear that she and Martin have agreed to differ. How quickly theseromantic love matches burn themselves out. I always say that a marriagemade in Heaven breaks up far sooner than one made on earth. It has somuch farther to fall. Whose fault is it, hers or his?"
Mrs. Hosack bent forward and endeavored to lower her voice. She was akind-hearted woman who delighted to see every one happy and normal."I'm very worried about those two, my dear," she answered. "There areall sorts of stories afloat,--one to the effect that Martin has goneoff with a chorus girl, another that Joan only married him to get awayfrom her grandparents and a third that they quarreled violently on theway home from church and have not been on speaking terms since. Idaresay there are many others, but whatever did happen, and somethingevidently did, Joan is happy enough, and every man in the house issentimental about her. Look out there, for instance."
Mrs. Jekyll followed her glance and saw a girl in bathing clothessitting on the beach under a red and blue striped umbrella encircled bythe outstretched forms of half a dozen men. Beyond, on the fringe of asea alive with bursting breakers, several girls were bathing alone.
"H'm," said Mrs. Jekyll. "I should think that the second story is thetrue one. A tip-tilted nose, chestnut hair and brown eyes are better toflirt with than marry. Well, I must run away if I'm to be back tolunch. I wish I could stay, but Edmond and his artist may kill my newbutler unless I intervene. They are both hotly pro-Ally. By the way, Ihear that Alice Palgrave has gone to the Maine coast with her mother,who is ill again; I wonder where Gilbert is going?"
"Well, I had a very charming letter from him two days ago, asking me ifhe could come and stay with us. He loves this house and the beach, andI always cheer him up, he said, and he is very lonely without Alice. Ofcourse I said yes, and he will be here this afternoon."
Whereupon, having landed her fish, Mrs. Jekyll rose to go. GilbertPalgrave and Joan Gray,--there was truth in that story, as she hadthought. She had heard of his having been seen everywhere with Joannight after night, and her sister-in-law, who lived opposite to thelittle house in East Sixty-seventh Street, had seen him leaving in theearly hours of the morning more than once. A lucky strike, indeed.Intuition was a wonderful gift. She was highly pleased with herself.
"Good-by, my dear," she said. "I will drive over again one day thisweek and see how you are all getting on in this beautiful corner of theworld. My love to Prim, please, and do remember me to the little siren."
And away she went, leaving Mrs. Hosack to wonder what was the meaningof her rather curious smile. Only a hidebound prejudice on the part ofthe Ministries of all the nations has precluded women from theDiplomatic Service.
Who Cares? A Story of Adolescence Page 20