Sally woke. Sunshine was streaming through the open window, and withit the myriad noises of a city awake and about its business. Footstepsclattered on the sidewalk, automobile horns were sounding, and she couldhear the clank of street cars as they passed over the points. She couldonly guess at the hour, but it was evident that the morning was welladvanced. She got up stiffly. Her head was aching.
She went into the bathroom, bathed her face, and felt better. The dulloppression which comes of a bad night was leaving her. She leaned outof the window, revelling in the fresh air, then crossed the passage andentered her own apartment. Stertorous breathing greeted her, and sheperceived that Gerald Foster had also passed the night in a chair. Hewas sprawling by the window with his legs stretched out and his headresting on one of the arms, an unlovely spectacle.
Sally stood regarding him for a moment with a return of the distastewhich she had felt on the previous night. And yet, mingled with thedistaste, there was a certain elation. A black chapter of her life wasclosed for ever. Whatever the years to come might bring to her, theywould be free from any wistful yearnings for the man who had once beenwoven so inextricably into the fabric of her life. She had thought thathis personality had gripped her too strongly ever to be dislodged,but now she could look at him calmly and feel only a faint half-pity,half-contempt. The glamour had departed.
She shook him gently, and he sat up with a start, blinking in the stronglight. His mouth was still open. He stared at Sally foolishly, thenscrambled awkwardly out of the chair.
"Oh, my God!" said Gerald, pressing both his hands to his forehead andsitting down again. He licked his lips with a dry tongue and moaned."Oh, I've got a headache!"
Sally might have pointed out to him that he had certainly earned one,but she refrained.
"You'd better go and have a wash," she suggested.
"Yes," said Gerald, heaving himself up again.
"Would you like some breakfast?"
"Don't!" said Gerald faintly, and tottered off to the bathroom.
Sally sat down in the chair he had vacated. She had never felt quitelike this before in her life. Everything seemed dreamlike. The splashingof water in the bathroom came faintly to her, and she realized that shehad been on the point of falling asleep again. She got up and opened thewindow, and once more the air acted as a restorative. She watched theactivities of the street with a distant interest. They, too, seemeddreamlike and unreal. People were hurrying up and down on mysteriouserrands. An inscrutable cat picked its way daintily across the road. Atthe door of the apartment house an open car purred sleepily.
She was roused by a ring at the bell. She went to the door and openedit, and found Bruce Carmyle standing on the threshold. He wore a lightmotor-coat, and he was plainly endeavouring to soften the severity ofhis saturnine face with a smile of beaming kindliness.
"Well, here I am!" said Bruce Carmyle cheerily. "Are you ready?"
With the coming of daylight a certain penitence had descended on Mr.Carmyle. Thinking things over while shaving and subsequently in hisbath, he had come to the conclusion that his behaviour overnight had notbeen all that could have been desired. He had not actually been brutal,perhaps, but he had undoubtedly not been winning. There had been anabruptness in the manner of his leaving Sally at the Flower Garden whicha perfect lover ought not to have shown. He had allowed his nervesto get the better of him, and now he desired to make amends. Hence acheerfulness which he did not usually exhibit so early in the morning.
Sally was staring at him blankly. She had completely forgotten that hehad said that he would come and take her for a drive this morning. Shesearched in her mind for words, and found none. And, as Mr. Carmylewas debating within himself whether to kiss her now or wait for a moresuitable moment, embarrassment came upon them both like a fog, and thegenial smile faded from his face as if the motive-power behind it hadsuddenly failed.
"I've--er--got the car outside, and..."
At this point speech failed Mr. Carmyle, for, even as he began thesentence, the door that led to the bathroom opened and Gerald Fostercame out. Mr. Carmyle gaped at Gerald: Gerald gaped at Mr. Carmyle.
The application of cold water to the face and head is an excellent thingon the morning after an imprudent night, but as a tonic it only goespart of the way. In the case of Gerald Foster, which was an extremelyserious and aggravated case, it had gone hardly any way at all. Theperson unknown who had been driving red-hot rivets into the base ofGerald Foster's skull ever since the moment of his awakening was stillbusily engaged on that task. He gazed at Mr. Carmyle wanly.
Bruce Carmyle drew in his breath with a sharp hiss, and stood rigid. Hiseyes, burning now with a grim light, flickered over Gerald's personand found nothing in it to entertain them. He saw a slouching figurein shirt-sleeves and the foundations of evening dress, a disgusting,degraded figure with pink eyes and a white face that needed a shave. Andall the doubts that had ever come to vex Mr. Carmyle's mind since hisfirst meeting with Sally became on the instant certainties. So UncleDonald had been right after all! This was the sort of girl she was!
At his elbow the stout phantom of Uncle Donald puffed with satisfaction.
"I told you so!" it said.
Sally had not moved. The situation was beyond her. Just as if this hadreally been the dream it seemed, she felt incapable of speech or action.
"So..." said Mr. Carmyle, becoming articulate, and allowed an impressiveaposiopesis to take the place of the rest of the speech. A cold furyhad gripped him. He pointed at Gerald, began to speak, found that he wasstuttering, and gulped back the words. In this supreme moment he was notgoing to have his dignity impaired by a stutter. He gulped and found asentence which, while brief enough to insure against this disaster, wassufficiently long to express his meaning.
"Get out!" he said.
Gerald Foster had his dignity, too, and it seemed to him that the timehad come to assert it. But he also had a most excruciating headache, andwhen he drew himself up haughtily to ask Mr. Carmyle what the devil hemeant by it, a severe access of pain sent him huddling back immediatelyto a safer attitude. He clasped his forehead and groaned.
"Get out!"
For a moment Gerald hesitated. Then another sudden shooting spasmconvinced him that no profit or pleasure was to be derived from acontinuance of the argument, and he began to shamble slowly across tothe door. Bruce Carmyle watched him go with twitching hands. There wasa moment when the human man in him, somewhat atrophied from long disuse,stirred him almost to the point of assault; then dignity whispered moreprudent counsel in his ear, and Gerald was past the danger-zone and outin the passage. Mr. Carmyle turned to face Sally, as King Arthur ona similar but less impressive occasion must have turned to deal withGuinevere.
"So..." he said again.
Sally was eyeing him steadily--considering the circumstances, Mr.Carmyle thought with not a little indignation, much too steadily.
"This," he said ponderously, "is very amusing."
He waited for her to speak, but she said nothing.
"I might have expected it," said Mr. Carmyle with a bitter laugh.
Sally forced herself from the lethargy which was gripping her.
"Would you like me to explain?" she said.
"There can be no explanation," said Mr. Carmyle coldly.
"Very well," said Sally.
There was a pause.
"Good-bye," said Bruce Carmyle.
"Good-bye," said Sally.
Mr. Carmyle walked to the door. There he stopped for an instant andglanced back at her. Sally had walked to the window and was looking out.For one swift instant something about her trim little figure and thegleam of her hair where the sunlight shone on it seemed to catch atBruce Carmyle's heart, and he wavered. But the next moment he was strongagain, and the door had closed behind him with a resolute bang.
Out in the street, climbing into his car, he looked up involuntarilyto see if she was still there, but she had gone. As the car, gatheringspeed, hummed down the street. Sall
y was at the telephone listening tothe sleepy voice of Ginger Kemp, which, as he became aware who itwas that had woken him from his rest and what she had to say to him,magically lost its sleepiness and took on a note of riotous ecstasy.
Five minutes later, Ginger was splashing in his bath, singingdiscordantly.
CHAPTER XVIII. JOURNEY'S END
Darkness was beginning to gather slowly and with almost an apologeticair, as if it regretted the painful duty of putting an end to theperfect summer day. Over to the west beyond the trees there stilllingered a faint afterglow, and a new moon shone like a silver sickleabove the big barn. Sally came out of the house and bowed gravely threetimes for luck. She stood on the gravel, outside the porch, drinking inthe sweet evening scents, and found life good.
The darkness, having shown a certain reluctance at the start, was nowbuckling down to make a quick and thorough job of it. The sky turnedto a uniform dark blue, picked out with quiet stars. The cement of thestate road which led to Patchogue, Babylon, and other important centresceased to be a pale blur and became invisible. Lights appeared in thewindows of the houses across the meadows. From the direction of thekennels there came a single sleepy bark, and the small white woolly dogwhich had scampered out at Sally's heels stopped short and uttered achallenging squeak.
The evening was so still that Ginger's footsteps, as he pounded alongthe road on his way back from the village, whither he had gone to buyprovisions, evening papers, and wool for the sweater which Sally wasknitting, were audible long before he turned in at the gate. Sally couldnot see him, but she looked in the direction of the sound and once againfelt that pleasant, cosy thrill of happiness which had come to her everyevening for the last year.
"Ginger," she called.
"What ho!"
The woolly dog, with another important squeak, scuttled down the driveto look into the matter, and was coldly greeted. Ginger, for all hislove of dogs, had never been able to bring himself to regard Toto withaffection. He had protested when Sally, a month before, finding Mrs.Meecher distraught on account of a dreadful lethargy which had seizedher pet, had begged him to offer hospitality and country air to theinvalid.
"It's wonderful what you've done for Toto, angel," said Sally, as hecame up frigidly eluding that curious animal's leaps of welcome. "He's adifferent dog."
"Bit of luck for him," said Ginger.
"In all the years I was at Mrs. Meecher's I never knew him move atanything more rapid than a stately walk. Now he runs about all thetime."
"The blighter had been overeating from birth," said Ginger. "That wasall that was wrong with him. A little judicious dieting put him right.We'll be able," said Ginger brightening, "to ship him back next week."
"I shall quite miss him."
"I nearly missed him--this morning--with a shoe," said Ginger. "He wasup on the kitchen table wolfing the bacon, and I took steps."
"My cave-man!" murmured Sally. "I always said you had a frightfullybrutal streak in you. Ginger, what an evening!"
"Good Lord!" said Ginger suddenly, as they walked into the light of theopen kitchen door.
"Now what?"
He stopped and eyed her intently.
"Do you know you're looking prettier than you were when I started downto the village!"
Sally gave his arm a little hug.
"Beloved!" she said. "Did you get the chops?"
Ginger froze in his tracks, horrified.
"Oh, my aunt! I clean forgot them!"
"Oh, Ginger, you are an old chump. Well, you'll have to go in for alittle judicious dieting, like Toto."
"I say, I'm most awfully sorry. I got the wool."
"If you think I'm going to eat wool..."
"Isn't there anything in the house?"
"Vegetables and fruit."
"Fine! But, of course, if you want chops..."
"Not at all. I'm spiritual. Besides, people say that vegetables are goodfor the blood-pressure or something. Of course you forgot to get themail, too?"
"Absolutely not! I was on to it like a knife. Two letters from fellowswanting Airedale puppies."
"No! Ginger, we are getting on!"
"Pretty bloated," agreed Ginger complacently. "Pretty bloated. We'll beable to get that two-seater if things go buzzing on like this. There wasa letter for you. Here it is."
"It's from Fillmore," said Sally, examining the envelope as they wentinto the kitchen. "And about time, too. I haven't had a word from himfor months."
She sat down and opened the letter. Ginger, heaving himself on to thetable, wriggled into a position of comfort and started to read hisevening paper. But after he had skimmed over the sporting page helowered it and allowed his gaze to rest on Sally's bent head with afeeling of utter contentment.
Although a married man of nearly a year's standing, Ginger was stillmoving about a magic world in a state of dazed incredulity, unable fullyto realize that such bliss could be. Ginger in his time had seen manythings that looked good from a distance, but not one that had borne thetest of a closer acquaintance--except this business of marriage.
Marriage, with Sally for a partner, seemed to be one of the very fewthings in the world in which there was no catch. His honest eyes glowedas he watched her. Sally broke into a little splutter of laughter.
"Ginger, look at this!"
He reached down and took the slip of paper which she held out to him.The following legend met his eye, printed in bold letters:
POPP'S
OUTSTANDING
SUCCULENT----APPETIZING----NUTRITIOUS.
(JUST SAY "POP!" A CHILD
CAN DO IT.)
Ginger regarded this cipher with a puzzled frown.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's Fillmore."
"How do you mean?"
Sally gurgled.
"Fillmore and Gladys have started a little restaurant in Pittsburg."
"A restaurant!" There was a shocked note in Ginger's voice. Althoughhe knew that the managerial career of that modern Napoleon, hisbrother-in-law, had terminated in something of a smash, he hadnever quite lost his reverence for one whom he considered a bit of amaster-mind. That Fillmore Nicholas, the Man of Destiny, should havedescended to conducting a restaurant--and a little restaurant atthat--struck him as almost indecent.
Sally, on the other hand--for sisters always seem to fail in properreverence for the greatness of their brothers--was delighted.
"It's the most splendid idea," she said with enthusiasm. "It really doeslook as if Fillmore was going to amount to something at last. Apparentlythey started on quite a small scale, just making pork-pies..."
"Why Popp?" interrupted Ginger, ventilating a question which wasperplexing him deeply.
"Just a trade name, silly. Gladys is a wonderful cook, you know, and shemade the pies and Fillmore toddled round selling them. And they didso well that now they've started a regular restaurant, and that's asuccess, too. Listen to this." Sally gurgled again and turned over theletter. "Where is it? Oh yes! '... sound financial footing. In fact, oursuccess has been so instantaneous that I have decided to launch out ona really big scale. It is Big Ideas that lead to Big Business. I amcontemplating a vast extension of this venture of ours, and in a veryshort time I shall organize branches in New York, Chicago, Detroit, andall the big cities, each in charge of a manager and each offering asa special feature, in addition to the usual restaurant cuisine, thesePopp's Outstanding Pork-pies of ours. That done, and having establishedall these branches as going concerns, I shall sail for England andintroduce Popp's Pork-pies there...' Isn't he a little wonder!"
"Dashed brainy chap. Always said so."
"I must say I was rather uneasy when I read that. I've seen so many ofFillmore's Big Ideas. That's always the way with him. He gets somethinggood and then goes and overdoes it and bursts. However, it's all rightnow that he's got Gladys to look after him. She has added
a postscript.Just four words, but oh! how comforting to a sister's heart. 'Yes, Idon't think!' is what she says, and I don't know when I've read anythingmore cheering. Thank heaven, she's got poor dear Fillmore well in hand."
"Pork-pies!" said Ginger, musingly, as the pangs of a healthyhunger began to assail his interior. "I wish he'd sent us one of theoutstanding little chaps. I could do with it."
Sally got up and ruffled his red hair.
"Poor old Ginger! I knew you'd never be able to stick it. Come on, it'sa lovely night, let's walk to the village and revel at the inn. We'regoing to be millionaires before we know where we are, so we can affordit."
THE END
The Adventures of Sally Page 47