There was a knock at the door. Read started, then quickly adjusted himself to the present. He took his feet down from the desk, fastened up his collar, retied his necktie.
“Come in.”
It was Miss Wilson. She glanced at the decanter, then averted her eyes. Gregg smiled at her sardonically.
“Telegram, Governor.”
“Let me have it.” Read took the telegram and glanced at it, then he got up and stood reading it over and over.
Miss Wilson started out.
“I hear you’re getting married, Miss Wilson,” said Gregg.
“Yes.”
“Charley’s a mighty good man. Sudden, wasn’t it?”
Miss Wilson flushed angrily.
“I don’t know what you mean by that, Mr. Upham.” She shrugged, turned and went out.
“Looks like a guilty conscience. Anything wrong, Read?”
Read hesitated, then handed Gregg the telegram.
Am very ill want to see you Northridge Hotel Sunnyvale
Eileen
“Just like her,” said Gregg. “Doesn’t she know you’ve got to make a speech? And look at that rain!”
“I’ve got time to go to Sunnyvale and back.”
“Let her wait. I’ll bet she’s not dying. And what about our handsome Italian friend?”
“I’ve got to go,” said Read, with decision. “You come, too, Gregg. As a favor.”
Gregg sighed and poured himself another drink.
III
“Nice little hideaway,” said Gregg, as Barney swung the big limousine from the highway and up through the grove of ancient elms and oaks which surrounded the Northridge Hotel.
Gregg’s voice was bitter. Barney had driven recklessly over the slippery and treacherous macadam, urged on by Read; and Gregg had got nervous and had shown it, much to his own disgust. Colonel Putnam had insisted on sending Captain Boyce with them, and he had laughed and talked all the way, absolutely oblivious to the skidding car and the poor visibility. Boyce, Gregg said, was a professional he-man, a breed he thoroughly disliked. Several times Read had to shut Gregg up to keep him from mortally offending the Captain. So now Gregg felt bitter and irritable and couldn’t hold his tongue.
“I used to stay here,” said Read, “when I was a State Representative. Nice place. You can really rest here.”
“I know,” said Gregg. “I was here once. A graveyard is lively in comparison. Every morning you go out and drink a dipperful of that stinking red water; at noon you drink another one; and just before dinner you do it again. Those are the high points of the day. Of course, you can play croquet!” .
“This is a very historic spot,” said Captain Boyce. “I used to know all about it, but I’ve kind of forgot. There used to be a French fort around here some place, kind of a trading post. Tecumseh’s buried down the road a little ways.”
“Is Sitting Bull buried here, too?” asked Gregg.
“Oh, no,” said Captain Boyce. “He was a Sioux. He was killed away out West.”
“Oh,” said Gregg.
Barney drove the car around the big rambling frame hotel and stopped under the huge wooden porte-cochère. They saw Major Bradley’s limousine parked nearby; his negro chauffeur was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. When he saw the Governor, he threw his cigarette away and came to attention. Young Dr. Cross opened the door and hurried out to meet them.
“Governor,” he said, drawing Read to one side, “she’s sleeping now. I want to see you a minute.”
“Where’s the Major?”
“I had to put him to bed, too. He’s worse than Eileen. That is, he’s really a sick man. Suffers from high blood pressure, and all this excitement has got him about to the boiling point.”
“I haven’t got much time. I’m due at Memorial Hall at eight o’clock.”
“You’ll make it. Governor, how many people know about this? Boyce doesn’t know, does he?”
“No. He was just detailed by Colonel Putnam to come along. Gregg knows all about it, of course.”
“It’s not going to look well in the papers.”
“We can’t help that.”
“Of course, the Independent will print as much of it as they can get hold of. The Major could kill the other accounts.”
“I’m not going to worry about that. When can I see Eileen?”
“In a few minutes. She sleeps in snatches only. Every time she opens her eyes she asks if you’ve come.”
Read said nothing, but he was touched. Did he really mean something to Eileen after all?
“Step into the lobby, Governor. I want to talk to you before you see Eileen.”
“Where’s Riquetti?”
“He’s wandering around some place like a lost soul. It’s too much for him.”
Read spoke briefly with Captain Boyce and Gregg, then he followed Dr. Cross into the big, gloomy lobby and they sat down on a lounge which faced one of the huge front windows. It had stopped raining, but the sky was still overcast. Water was still running through the rain gutters, and there was a steady drip-drip from the big trees along the veranda. From where he sat Read could see, between the trees of the grove, cars flashing past on the National Highway.
“As you know,” said little Dr. Cross, adjusting his pince-nez, “I’m not a nerve doctor. I’m just a doctor. I inherited my practice, you might say, from the Old Boy and I’ve spent most of my professional life doctoring the rich, most of them what is called ‘nerve’ cases. I never tell them they are hypochondriacs; that wouldn’t do. I always find something wrong with them and then proceed to treat them for it. I’ve had pretty good results. But Eileen is different.”
Read cleared his throat impatiently.
“Let me have it fast, Doctor. I’ve only got a few minutes.”
“I’ll hurry as fast as I can. Well, there’s no doubt that Eileen is a ‘nerve’ case. She’s sound as a dollar; nothing organically wrong with her at all. So you don’t need to worry about that. She’s not dangerously ill or anything like it. She could get out of her bed this minute and go about her business. But she thinks she’s sick, so we must humor her up to a point. Her trouble is, she’s suffering from a conflict in her emotional life. Not like my other rich patients at all; as I said before. They are simply bored; have nothing to absorb them; so they begin to listen to themselves tick. Eileen is a very highly organized woman; she’s sensitive, and very intelligent. Life hits her a harder wallop than it does me, for instance, or yourself, Governor. So we must make allowances. On top of this, she has what a colleague of mine calls an ‘anxiety neurosis.’ She thinks something terrible is going to happen. She doesn’t know what. It just seems to her that some dark thing is hanging over her. Ordinarily she laughs it off; dismisses it. But when it happens that she has something trying to face anyway, it gets the best of her. Today she couldn’t overcome it. She made Riquetti stop here. She went to bed. She thought she was dying. Everybody thought she was dying. The doctors from Dayton were running around in circles.” The little doctor bent down to laugh. “When they found out she was Eileen Bradley they almost fainted. They were certainly glad to see me. They couldn’t afford to have a woman like Eileen Bradley die on their hands.”
“What do you want me to do?” Read interposed, impatiently.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and peered at Read.
“That’s up to you. You’ve got to decide that for yourself. She didn’t really want to run away with this fortune hunter. She just thought she did. I think her inner self—call it what you want—got the best of her without her knowing it; hence her prostration. That’s only a theory. All she talks about is you, Governor.”
A nurse came tiptoeing across the long, dim lobby.
“Miss Bradley is awake, Doctor. She’s asking for Mr. Cole again, sir. Has he…?”
“This is Governor Cole, Miss Rice,” said the doctor with a flourish.
The nurse’s face was stupid with surprise.
“Oh, Governor Cole! Follow
me, Governor.”
When the nurse pushed the door open, Read saw that Eileen was sitting up in bed. His hands began to tremble slightly; his heart beat unevenly. All his resentment disappeared. Eileen was no longer sleek and superior and imperturbable. Her dark hair was twisted up anyhow and Read saw how thick and lustrous it was. She had on very little make-up and her eyes looked large and beautiful in her pale, slightly drawn face.
Half crying, she waved her hands at the nurse.
“Please go away,” she said.
The nurse closed the door softly.
“Better?” asked Read, standing awkwardly by the bed.
“Yes. Oh, Read, I was sure I was going to die. I just couldn’t get my breath. I was suffocating. Sit down, won’t you? You stand there as if you were going to run away any minute.”
Read sat down in a chair by the bed. Eileen leaned back against her piled-up pillows. There was a short silence. Outside, the water was still running through the rain gutters and dripping from the trees.
“I’m glad you’re better.”
Eileen looked at him, then tears began to run down her cheeks. She held out her arms to Read.
“Don’t you want me?” she said.
Read got up, sat down on the bed, and took her in his arms.
“I always wanted you, Eileen. But you were always so difficult.”
“Kiss me, please; just once. Then we must talk.”
They kissed; Eileen was all soft and tearful and not like herself at all. Read was overpowered by a strong but vague emotion. Eileen seemed so young now; so helpless and at the mercy of things. Like Kitten! Yes, now she seemed as badly equipped as Kitten for dealing with men and life. Read wanted to protect her, and make her way smooth.
“Why did you run away?” he demanded.
“It was a brainstorm.”
“Are you going back home?”
Eileen smiled shyly. Read was amazed at the difference in her. He was looking at an Eileen he had never seen before. She had dropped all her defenses. She was just a woman wanting to be loved; not a sleek, self-possessed, sophisticated semi-European. He understood the Major now. A happy, thoughtful girl!
“Do you want me to go back, Read?”
“I certainly do.”
“You say it with conviction.”
“I mean it. I was miserable. I thought you’d never had any use for me at all. What else could I think?”
“Wasn’t it awful of me? Poor Dad! He collapsed, the doctor said. I never knew I meant so much to him. I really didn’t. I just thought he wanted to interfere with me.”
“Should you talk so much?”
“Oh,” said Eileen, “I’m still very weak, but I feel so much better since you came… Where’s Vince?”
She asked this so suddenly that Read started, then his face clouded.
“He’s about some place. Why?”
“Get rid of him. Wait.” She reached under her pillow and pulled out a huge roll of bills. “Give him this, Read. Or maybe you’d better not. I’ll have Dr. Cross give it to him. Daddy brought it. Vince hasn’t a cent hardly. He’s going to live with some rich people in Santa Barbara and all he’s got is a ticket, and about a hundred dollars.”
Read smiled.
“Are you buying him off?”
“It isn’t that. Oh, he’s a terrible fool, Read. He thought he had me nicely hooked. He was already spending Dad’s money in his mind.”
Read flushed.
“Don’t forget I haven’t got very much money myself. A lot of people will say I’m marrying you for your money.”
“Are you going to marry me, Read, after I’ve made such a terrible scandal?”
“Of course. Wasn’t that the idea?”
“Dad was furious. He said I’d ruin you politically.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“Oh, Read, I’m so happy. Was I mean to you?”
“Rather.”
“I’m sorry. Will you forgive me? I was in a terrible state of mind. I even thought about killing myself. It was the town and the people and then Vince coming in suddenly like that, reminding me of Henry. And, oh, everything piled up on me at once. Read, do you love me a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes I could shake you. You have such a calm face. Don’t you ever feel wild?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, like you want to do something desperate.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I’ve always had wild spells.”
“I hope you get over them.”
“When I’m First Lady? Daddy said you’ll be the next Republican nominee for President. Will you, Read?”
“Who knows?” Read glanced hurriedly at his watch. “Eileen, I’ve got to go. Sorry. I speak at Memorial Hall tonight.”
“I know. The proprietor’s getting a radio for me. You see how interested I am?”
“You must take it easy. You mustn’t overdo it.”
“Oh, I’m almost well again. Just seeing you did it.” She lowered her eyes and sat staring at the floor. “How could I ever have been so foolish?”
Read hesitated.
“Anybody’s liable to do a foolish thing at any time.”
“Not you.”
“Yes, me. I almost did a foolish thing.”
Eileen brightened.
“A woman?”
“Yes.”
“Why, Read! Let me look at you.”
“A little check-girl. Very pretty.”
“Why, Read Cole! I didn’t know I had a rival.”
“You have.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She was kidnapped.”
Eileen stared, then smiled.
“And I thought you were serious!”
She leaned forward and kissed Read softly, then he got up.
“I must go. I’ll call you as soon as I get through at the Hall. You must sleep and get your strength back. Have you eaten anything?”
“No. But I’m hungry now. Goodbye, darling. I love you very much. Read, maybe it was best after all.”
“Maybe it was.” Read opened the door and spoke to the nurse, who was sitting in the hallway. “Miss Bradley will have her dinner now.”
“Her dinner! Yes, Governor.”
When Read came down the stairs into the lobby, he saw the Major sitting in a big armchair. Dr. Cross was bending down, talking earnestly to him. Vincent Riquetti was sitting a short distance away, staring glumly out the window into the dripping grove.
“He would come down, Governor,” said the doctor, shrugging. “I couldn’t stop him.”
“Wanted to pay my respects,” said the Major, puffing a little. “How is she, Governor?”
“Much better. She’s going to have her dinner now.”
The Major stared, then he smiled at the doctor.
“I was right,” he exclaimed, weakly striking the arm of the chair.
“Doctor,” said Read, “run up and see Eileen. She’s got something she wants you to do.”
“What are we going to do with him?” whispered the doctor, jerking his head in Riquetti’s direction.
“Eileen will tell you. She has money for him. Doctor, see that he leaves right away. I don’t want him around here a minute longer than necessary.”
When Read got to the door, Riquetti was right behind him.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency,” he said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this unfortunate affair.”
Read’s lips tightened. Riquetti looked sad and beaten, standing there in the gloom of this ramshackle old American hotel; he seemed so alien and out of place.
“Well, it’s all over now.”
“Excuse me. What am I to do? Nobody will talk to me.”
“Dr. Cross will tell you what to do in a few minutes. Just sit down and be patient.” Read turned away and went out.
Gregg was sitting in the back of the limousine asleep with his hat over his eyes. Captain Boyce jumped to attentio
n.
“Have we plenty of time, Captain?”
“Yes, Governor,” said Boyce; “if Mr. Upham doesn’t object to fast driving.”
Read smiled to himself as Barney opened the car door for him.
IV
The rotunda was crowded and noisy. Read, standing in his office, talking to Gregg and getting ready to go to Memorial Hall, could hear the clamor through three closed doors. Colonel Putnam and Captain Boyce came in from time to time, then ran out again. After a moment, Read went to the window and looked out into the yard, where militiamen were keeping a lane open to the north entrance. ”What a mob!” Read said.
Gregg smiled.
“How does it feel to be the ‘darling of the crowd,’ as it says in the worst newspapers?”
“I don’t notice anything.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“They don’t care anything about me. They’re just looking for excitement.”
“Sometimes you’re almost a philosopher.”
“Almost?”
“Yes. A philosopher wouldn’t marry Eileen Bradley.”
“Don’t start all over. You’ve already promised to be my best man.”
“Well,” said Gregg, with a sigh, “I’ll go through with it. But on one condition: I’m not going to help you catch her when she runs away again.”
“Now, Gregg…”
“I have too much trouble with your women as it is.”
“My women! What the hell do you mean?” Gregg smiled.
“Who do you think took care of little Venus from the Massey?”
“I suspected it.”
“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands, but scared to death. Or was.”
“You take a lot for granted, Gregg.”
“You can always punch me in the nose.”
Colonel Putnam opened the door.
“Ready, Governor?”
“Yes. Come on, Gregg.”
“Are you really sore, Read? I was afraid you’d get a headline. You need every vote you can get and a scandal about a nineteen-year-old girl, well…”
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