The Silver Butterfly Read online

Page 7


  CHAPTER VII

  An afternoon or two later, having perfected a little plan in his mind,Hayden again called on his cousin to be informed that she was not athome. Kitty, he reflected, was never at home when any one wanted to findher. Therefore, with time on his hands, he turned into the Park anddecided to stroll there for an hour or so. It was an almost incrediblymild afternoon for the season of the year, mild and soft and gray; theleafless boughs of the trees upheld the black irregular network of theirtwigs against the gray sky, with its faint, dull reflection of sunsetgold, and the twilight brooded in the mists on the edge of distance as ifit awaited the hour to send its gray veils floating over the face of theearth.

  Hayden walked slowly, and in this direction or that as his fancydictated. It was not an afternoon for violent exercise; but for loiteringand reverie. Presently, he looked up from his musings, to see, to hisinfinite surprise and delight, Marcia Oldham approaching him down atwilight vista with the gold behind her.

  She, too, was influenced by the day and the hour, for she seemed to walkin a dream, and came quite near him without seeing him. She was all inblack, and her furs, also black, were slipping from her shoulders, whileher muff dangled from a cord about her wrist. Hayden thought she looked alittle tired and certainly pale; but that might have been due to theblack hat and the lace veil she had thrown back from her face the betterto enjoy the air.

  She came quite close to him before she saw him, and as she lifted hereyes and met his she started slightly, a start of unmistakable amazement,and as it seemed to him, although perhaps this was but the reflection ofhis hopes, of pleasure.

  "I began to fear that we were never going to meet again," he said afterthey had exchanged the conventional greetings, and he had asked and hadreceived permission to walk with her in whatever direction she might betaking.

  "I have been away for a week," she answered, "and there has been a numberof things to see to since my return. I have been very busy. You know Ihave a studio away from my home where I paint all day. Your cousin hasbought a number of my pictures."

  "She spoke of them. I am anxious to see them; and I knew you were away,"he said. "I knew it psychologically. The town was full of people and yet,at the same time, it was very empty." That faint and lovely carnation onher cheek! "And Kitty Hampton told me that you had been away with her,"he rather tamely concluded.

  "Yes," she said, it seemed to him indifferently. Then with a change oftone, as if warning him from dangerous ground: "How absurd ouracquaintance has been!"

  "Does it strike you so?" he asked sadly. "To me it is the mostdelightful, the most beautiful thing that ever happened."

  "I should not be at all surprised," she said calmly, almost too calmly,and with premeditated irrelevance, "if Kitty and Bea were both of themawaiting me now." His boldness was incapable of ruffling her composure;but, nevertheless, he saw with a secret joy the telltale anduncontrollable carnation again fly to her cheek.

  But Hayden had not even approached the limits of his courage. He had beentoo much baffled in his attempts to find her, she had proved too elusivefor him to permit her lightly to slip through his fingers again, as itwere, now, when he had the opportunity to press his claims for furtherrecognition. Should a man who had succeeded more than once through boldbut not displeasing words in causing the scarlet to stain that cheek ofcream, carelessly forgo any chance for future experiment?

  "Surely, you won't leave me on your door-step this dreary afternoon," hepleaded. "I would never have suspected you of such hardness of heart.Why, it amounts almost to--to--brutality," casting about him for a goodstrong word. "You will pass on into light and warmth and comfort; tea,the cheering cup, and cakes, no doubt cakes, while I am left out in thisgray depressing atmosphere, night coming on, the rain falling--"

  "Rain! Oh, nonsense. You have overshot your mark." She lifted her face tothe sky. "Not a drop," scornfully.

  He stripped his glove from his hand and held out the bare palm. "Ithought so," with calm triumph. "A steady drizzle. You don't feel it yetbecause of your hat; but you will presently. It will very shortly turn toa drenching shower; that especial sort of cloud yonder," waving his sticktoward the west, "always indicates a drenching shower. Oh," in answer toher incredulous smile, "you can't tell me anything about weatherconditions, I've lived too much in the open not to be thoroughlyconversant of them. So you see I know what I'm talking about when I saythat a woman who would leave a man on a door-step on an afternoon likethis is the kind that would shut up the house and go away for the summerleaving the cat to forage for itself."

  "But think of your nice warm apartment, and the subways and street-carsand taxicabs and hansoms which will swiftly bear you thither."

  His glance was a reproachful protest. "Every form of conveyance you havementioned is drafty. Coming from the hot climates I have lived in solong--" He paused and coughed tentatively. "But what is the use of allthis thrust and parry?" pressing his advantage. "Are you or are you notgoing to give me a cup of tea?"

  At this very direct question, the laughter, the gaiety vanished from herface. She looked thoughtful and seemed to consider so trivial a matterquite unnecessarily. Then, apparently arriving at a sudden decision, shesaid with a sort of sweet, prim courtesy: "I should be very glad to haveyou come in with me and meet my mother. I think it is very probable thatwe will find Kitty, and perhaps Bea, there before us."

  "Thank you very much," he said, with equal formality. "I very muchappreciate your letting me come."

  The remainder of their walk he found delightful. Marcia was pleased tothrow off, in a measure, the reserve, the absorption which seemed almosthabitual with her, and she chatted with him frankly, occasionally evenplayfully, as they strolled along.

  "Why," he asked her curiously, "did you put that hypothetical question tome that evening at the Gildersleeve, about the young woman living in thecountry and sending her astral body on little visits to town?"

  "I don't know, I'm sure," she laughed. "It often amuses me to indulge inlittle fanciful flights like that."

  "I think you were purposely trying to mystify me," he said. "You saw thatI was going to be a bore and you pretended to be a ghost, trusting toyour noiseless and mysterious manner of appearing and disappearing towork on my fears and frighten me off. And, truth to tell, there issomething uncanny about your peculiarly soundless and rustlelessmovements."

  "Oh, absurd!" she cried, the very tips of her ears red. Hayden might wellexult in his ability to make her blush. "How you do romance! The wholesituation was an absolutely simple one. Old Mr.----" He fancied shecaught her breath sharply, but if it were so she recovered herselfimmediately and went on: "The man with whom I was dining--I had to seehim that evening. He was leaving town. I was leaving him at the stationwhen I bowed to you and Mr. Penfield from the motor, and, as I wassaying, I had to see him before he left on a--a business matter, andnaturally, it was much easier to talk it over with him at theGildersleeve than any place else."

  She smiled as she finished, and Hayden saw more in that smile than sheintended or desired he should. It was in itself a full period, definitelyclosing the subject. It also held resentment, annoyance that she hadpermitted herself to fall into so egregious a blunder as an explanation.

  "Oh, how I love a winter evening like this!" she went on hurriedly. "Oncein a while, they stray into the heart of winter from the sun-warmedautumn, and they get so cold, poor little waifs from Indian Summer, thatthey wrap themselves in all the clouds and mists they can find. Ah, isn'tit soft and dim and sweet and mysterious? The wind sings such an eerielittle song, and the tiny, pale crescent moon is just rising. Look, ithas a ring about it! It will rain to-morrow. Oh, dear!"

  They had left the Park a few minutes before and turned in the directionof Riverside Drive, and a short walk brought them to the home in whichMarcia's father had installed his family a few months before the crashcame and his subsequent death. It was a handsome house, within as well aswithout; dark, stately, and sumptuous in effect. The sound of voice
s andlaughter reached their ears as they ascended the stairs, and when theyentered the drawing-room they found a number of people there before them.

  There was Kitty looking more than ever like a charming, if not very goodlittle boy, and dressed beautifully, if incongruously, in a trailing limpgown of champagne color and wistaria most wonderfully blended, when herface, her figure, the way she wore her hair, seemed to cry aloud forknickerbockers; and there was Bea Habersham in velvet, of the ceriseshade she so much affected, and Edith Symmes suggesting nothing so muchas a distinguished but malevolent fairy, her keen, satirical, sallow facelooking almost livid in contrast with a terrible gown which she spoke ofwith pride as "this sweet, gaslight-green frock of mine."

  "Mother, Mr. Hayden has come in with me for a cup of tea. He doesn't knowyet that you make the very best tea in all the world." Marcia's voice, inspeaking to her mother, seemed to take on an added gentleness. It struckHayden that so she might speak to a small child.

  Mrs. Oldham greeted Hayden most graciously, but he could not fail tonotice that she turned to her daughter with an indefinable displeasure inboth glance and manner. She was a small woman, barely as high as Marcia'sshoulder; a surprise always, when noted, for the carriage of her head andshoulders gave the impression of her being above medium height; she hadevidently been an extremely pretty creature of the Dresden-china type,and she still bore the manner and assurance of beauty, fortifying thismental attitude by a genius for dress. Thus she succeeded in maintainingan illusion perfectly satisfactory to herself, if not quite to others,for it was rather a hungry beast of an illusion and demanded constantoblation and sacrifice.

  Her hair, like Marcia's, was dark with the same loose and heavy waves,and her features exhibited the same delicate regularity; but the strengthand sweetness of character so marked in the daughter's face were lackingin the mother's. Two rather striking blemishes on the older woman'sbeauty, a wandering eye and a scar on the soft cheek, she took her ownpeculiar method of ignoring, thus completely and effectively discountingany unfavorable opinion in the mind of the beholder. Consequently, shefrequently referred to them, never as blemishes, but as slight butsignificant evidences of a distinctive and distinguished individuality.

  "Oh, Marcia! What a dream of a hat!" cried Kitty. "And new. It's a HenriDondel or a Carlier."

  Marcia laughed her gentle and charming laugh. "Yes, it's new and I'm soglad you like it."

  "New, new, new," said her mother petulantly. "It's something new everyday. I never saw such a spendthrift. It's a good thing my wants are sofew."

  Marcia did not appear to hear this, and almost immediately her attentionwas taken up by the entrance of Wilfred Ames, big, stolid andgood-looking, while hard upon his heels followed Horace Penfield.

  Mrs. Oldham, seeing that Penfield had gravitated toward the three women,Edith Symmes, Kitty and Bea, and that Ames had drawn Marcia a littleapart, urged Hayden to come and sit beside her tea-table and let her brewhim a cup of fresh tea.

  "It's really a rest for me, Mr. Hayden," she said pathetically, "fortruly, it is very little rest I get. This big house to look after--Marciais not the least assistance to me in housekeeping--and a daughter on one'smind." She sighed heavily. "It is enough to make Mr. Oldham turn over inhis grave if he could see all the care and responsibility that is thrownon my shoulders. He couldn't endure the thought of such a thing. Healways said to me: 'Those little feet were made to tread on flowers.' Hewas so absurd about my feet, you know. Not that they are anythingremarkable; but I'm from the South, Mr. Hayden, and it's only naturalthat I should have beautiful feet.

  "But then, as I often told him, he was just so constituted that he couldsee nothing in me but absolute perfection. Why, do you know, one of myeyes has a slight, oh, a very slight defect, you have probably notnoticed it. Well, we had been married for years before he ever saw it. Ihappened to mention it and he simply would not believe me until Iconvinced him by standing before him in a very strong light with my eyeswide open. Do let me give you a little more tea. No? Then some sugar orlemon, just to freshen up a bit what you have. How handsome Marcia andWilfred look standing together, she is so dark and he is so fair. He is adear fellow and so steady and sedate. I love him like a son, and Iconsider his influence over Marcia excellent.

  "She is, of course, the dearest thing in the world to me, Mr. Hayden. Youwill understand that, but I feel a mother's solicitude, and she hascertain traits which I fear may become exaggerated faults. She isinclined to be head-strong, heedless, wilful, and I'm afraid, sweet asMrs. Hampton and Mrs. Habersham are--dear girls! I love them like my owndaughters--that they encourage Marcia in her defiance of proper authorityand her dreadful extravagance. But," sighing, "she is young and prettyand she does not think; although Mr. Oldham used often to say: 'Marciawill never have her mother's beauty.' What do you think of such anabsurdity?"

  "I think if Diogenes had met Mr. Oldham he would have blown out his lightand gone back to the seclusion of his bath-tub for the rest of his life."

  "Oh!" Mrs. Oldham looked puzzled. "Oh, Diogenes! Oh, yes, searching foran honest man. Mr. Hayden, what a charming thing of you to say! I mustremember that, and so witty, too! Edith dear," as Mrs. Symmes approachedthem, "you can't fancy what a wit Mr. Hayden is."

  "Oh, yes, I can," returned Mrs. Symmes, "and that is the reason I havecome to drag him away from you. Here is Mr. Penfield to take his place,and tell you a lot of new scandals all springing directly from the sevendeadly old sins. Come and sit on the sofa with me, Mr. Hayden."

  "Rescued!" he muttered feebly when they had sat down in a remote corner."I had an idea that I was never going to escape, that it would run on forever and ever."

  "Poor Marcia!" murmured Mrs. Symmes, glancing toward the window whereMarcia and Ames stood, still engrossed in conversation. "And poorWilfred! You haven't seen his Old Man of the Sea yet--meaning hismother?"

  "No, is she, too, a Venus with a bad eye?"

  "Quite the reverse." Faint sparkles of amusement came into her eyes,amusement which was always touched with a slight malice. "Mr. Hayden,some people are coming to take luncheon with me next Wednesday, I maycount on you, may I not?"

  "Indeed, yes," he assured her. "I should like nothing better."

  She rose and he with her. Every one was doing the same. With a purposewhich had been maturing in his mind during the last hour, Haydenapproached Kitty and Marcia, who stood together talking in low tones asKitty caught her furs about her.

  "Miss Oldham," Hayden's voice was delightfully ingratiating, "don't youor Kitty want to give me the address of this wonderful fortune-teller,Mademoiselle Mariposa?"

  "But you said you took no interest in such things," Kitty spoke quickly."You insisted that they were all fakers and frauds. Why do you want to gonow?"

  "But I have an idea that I have met the lady," he asserted.

  Marcia gave a quick start; but Kitty laughed. "I defy you to pierce herdisguise," she asserted, "and tell whether you have met her or not,unless, of course, she acknowledges the acquaintance. I will telephoneyou her address the moment I reach home. I do not remember the number."