CHAPTER VIII
OPENING THE CAMPAIGN
Louise's little romance, which now began to thrive vigorously, wasregarded with calmness by her cousins and her mother, who knew of theformer episode between her and Arthur and attached little importance tothe renewed flirtation in which they indulged. That they were deceivedin their estimate was due to the girl's reputation for frivolity whereyoung men were concerned. She had been dubbed a "flirt" ever since shefirst began to wear long dresses, and her nature was not considered deepenough for her heart to be ever seriously affected. Therefore the younggirl was gravely misjudged.
Louise was not one to bare her heart, even to her most intimate friends,and no one now suspected that at last her deepest, truest womanlyaffections were seriously involved. The love for Arthur that had laindormant in her heart was aroused at a time when she was more mature andcapable of recognizing truly her feelings, so that it was not longbefore she surrendered her reserve and admitted to him that life wouldmean little for her unless they might pass the years together. For hispart, young Weldon sincerely loved Louise, and had never wavered fromhis firm devotion during all the past months of misunderstanding.
The general impression that they were "merely flirting" afforded thelovers ample opportunity to have their walks and drives togetherundisturbed, and during these soulful communions they arrived at such aperfect understanding that both were confident nothing could everdisturb their trust and confidence.
It was at a theatre party that the three _debutantes_ first met CharlieMershone, but they saw little of him that first evening and scarcelynoticed his presence. Louise, indeed, noted that his eyes were fixedupon her more than once with thinly veiled admiration, and without athought of disloyalty to Arthur, but acting upon the impulse of hercoquettish nature, she responded with a demure smile of encouragement.Charlie Mershone was an adept at playing parts. He at first regardedLouise much as a hunter does the game he is stalking. Patsy Doyle wasmore jolly and Beth De Graf more beautiful than Miss Merrick; but theyoung man would in any event have preferred the latter's daintypersonality. When he found her responsive to his admiring glances he wasastounded to note his heart beating rapidly--a thing quite foreign tohis usual temperament. Yes, this girl would do very nicely, both as awife and as a banker. Assuredly the game was well worth playing, asDiana had asserted. He must make it his business to discover whatdifficulties must be overcome in winning her. Of course Arthur Weldonwas the main stumbling-block; but Weldon was a ninny; he must be thrustaside; Diana had promised to attend to that.
Never in his life had Charles Connoldy Mershone been in earnest before.After his first interview with Louise Merrick he became in deadlyearnest. His second meeting with her was at Marie Delmar's bridge whistparty, where they had opportunity for an extended conversation. Arthurwas present this evening, but by some chance Mershone drew Louise forhis partner at cards, and being a skillful player he carried her inprogression from table to table, leaving poor Arthur far behind andindulging in merry repartee and mild flirtation until they felt theywere quite well acquainted.
Louise found the young man a charming conversationalist. He had adashing, confidential way of addressing the girl which impressed her asflattering and agreeable, while his spirits were so exuberant andsparkling with humor that she was thoroughly amused every moment whilein his society. Indeed, Mr. Mershone was really talented, and had hepossessed any manly attributes, or even the ordinary honorable instinctsof mankind, there is little doubt he would have been a popular favorite.But he had made his mark, and it was a rather grimy one. From earliestyouth he had been guilty of discreditable acts that had won for him thecontempt of all right-minded people. That he was still accepted with laxtolerance by some of the more thoughtless matrons of the fashionable setwas due to his family name. They could not forget that in spite of hisnumerous lapses from respectability he was still a Mershone. Not one ofthe careless mothers who admitted him to her house would have allowedher daughter to wed him, and the degree of tolerance extended to him wasfully appreciated by Mershone himself. He knew he was practically barredfrom the most desirable circles and seldom imposed himself upon hisformer acquaintances; but now, with a distinct object in view, hecallously disregarded the doubtful looks he encountered and showedhimself in every drawing-room where he could secure an invitation orimpudently intrude himself. He made frank avowals that he had "reformed"and abandoned his evil ways forever. Some there were who accepted thisstatement seriously, and Diana furthered his cause by treating himgraciously whenever they met, whereas she had formerly refused torecognize her cousin.
Louise knew nothing at all of Charlie Mershone's history and permittedhim to call when he eagerly requested the favor; but on the way homefrom the Delmars Arthur, who had glowered at the usurper all theevening, took pains to hint to Louise that Mershone was an undesirableacquaintance and had a bad record. Of course she laughed at him andteased him, thinking he was jealous and rejoicing that in Mershone shehad a tool to "keep Arthur toeing the mark." As a matter of truth shehad really missed her lover's companionship that evening, but forbore toapprise him of the fact.
And now the great Kermess began to occupy the minds of the threecousins, who were to share the important "Flower Booth" between them.The Kermess was to be the holiday sensation of the season and bade fairto eclipse the horse show in popularity. It was primarily a charitableentertainment, as the net receipts were to be divided among severaldeserving hospitals; nevertheless it was classed as a high societyfunction and only the elect were to take active part in the affair.
The ball room at the Waldorf had been secured and many splendid boothswere to be erected for the sale of novelties, notions and refreshments.There were to be lotteries and auctions, national dances given by groupsof society belles, and other novel entertainments calculated to emptythe pockets of the unwary.
Beth was somewhat indignant to find that she and her cousins, havingbeen assigned to the flower booth, were expected to erect a pavilion anddecorate it at their own expense, as well as to provide the stock offlowers to be sold. "There is no fund for preliminary expenses, youknow," remarked Mrs. Sandringham, "and of course all the receipts are togo to charity; so there is nothing to do but stand these little billsourselves. We all do it willingly. The papers make a good deal of theKermess, and the advertisement we get is worth all it costs us."
Beth did not see the force of this argument. She thought it was dreadfulfor society--really good society--to wish to advertise itself; butgradually she was learning that this was merely a part of the game. Tobe talked about, to have her goings and comings heralded in the societycolumns and her gowns described on every possible occasion, seemed thedesire of every society woman, and she who could show the biggestscrap-book of clippings was considered of highest importance.. UncleJohn laughed joyously when told that the expenses of the flower boothwould fall on the shoulders of his girls and there was no laterrecompense.
"Why not?" he cried. "Mustn't we pay the fiddler if we dance?"
"It's a hold-up game," declared Beth, angrily. "I'll have nothing to dowith it."
"Yes, you will, my dear," replied her uncle; "and to avoid separatingyou chicks from your pin-money I'm going to stand every cent of theexpense myself. Why, it's for charity, isn't it? Charity covers amultitude of sins, and I'm just a miserable sinner that needs abath-robe to snuggle in. How can the poor be better served than byrobbing the rich? Go ahead, girls, and rig up the swellest booth thatmoney will build. I'll furnish as many flowers as you can sell, andCharity ought to get a neat little nest-egg out of the deal."
"That's nice of you," said Patsy, kissing him; "but it's an imposition,all the same."
"It's a blessing, my dear. It will help a bit to ease off that dreadfulincome that threatens to crush me," he rejoined, smiling at them. Andthe nieces made no further protest, well knowing the kindly oldgentleman would derive untold pleasure in carrying out his generousplans.
The flower booth, designed by a famous architect, proved
a splendid andmost imposing structure. It was capped by a monster bouquet ofartificial orchids in _papier-mache,_ which reached twenty feet into theair. The three cousins had their gowns especially designed for theoccasion. Beth represented a lily, Louise a Gold-of-Ophir rose, andPatricia a pansy.
The big ball room had been turned over to the society people severaldays in advance, that the elaborate preparations might be completed intime, and during this period groups of busy, energetic young folksgathered by day and in the evenings, decorating, flirting, rehearsingthe fancy dances, and amusing themselves generally.
Arthur Weldon was there to assist Uncle John's nieces; but his pleasurewas somewhat marred by the persistent presence of Charlie Mershone, who,having called once or twice upon Louise, felt at liberty to attachhimself to her party. The ferocious looks of his rival were ignored bythis designing young man and he had no hesitation in interrupting a_tete-a-tete_ to monopolize the girl for himself.
Louise was amused, thinking it fun to worry Arthur by flirting mildlywith Mr. Mershone, for whom she cared not a jot. Both Patsy and Bethtook occasion to remonstrate with her for this folly, for having knownWeldon for a long time and journeyed with him through a part of Europe,they naturally espoused his cause, liking him as much as theyintuitively disliked Mershone.
One evening Arthur, his patience well-nigh exhausted, talked seriouslywith Louise.
"This fellow Mershone," said he, "is a bad egg, a despicable son of adecadent family. His mother was Hedrik Von Taer's sister, but the poorthing has been dead many years. Not long ago Charlie was tabooed by eventhe rather fast set he belonged to, and the Von Taers, especially,refused to recognize their relative. Now he seems to go everywhereagain. I don't know what has caused the change, I'm sure." "Why, hehas reformed," declared Louise; "Diana told me so. She said he had beena bit wild, as all young men are; but now his behavior isirreproachable."
"I don't believe a word of it," insisted Arthur. "Mershone is a naturalcad; he's been guilty of all sorts of dirty tricks, and is capable ofmany more. If you'll watch out, Louise, you'll see that all the girlsare shy of being found in his society, and all the chaperons cluck totheir fledglings the moment the hawk appears. You're a novice in societyjust yet, my dear, and it won't do you any good to encourage CharlieMershone, whom everyone else avoids."
"He's very nice," returned Louise, lightly.
"Yes; he must be nicer than I am," admitted the young man, glumly, andthereupon he became silent and morose and Louise found her eveningspoiled.
The warning did not fall on barren ground, however. In the seclusion ofher own room the girl thought it all over and decided she had teased hertrue lover enough. Arthur had not scolded or reproached her, despite hisannoyance, and she had a feeling that his judgment of Charlie Mershonewas quite right. Although the latter was evidently madly in love withher the girl had the discretion to see how selfish and unrestrained washis nature, and once or twice he had already frightened her by hisimpetuosity. She decided to retreat cautiously but positively fromfurther association with him, and at once began to show the young mancoolness.
Mershone must have been chagrined, but he did not allow Louise to seethere was any change in their relations as far as he was concerned. Hemerely redoubled his attentions, sending her flowers and bonbons daily,accompanied by ardently worded but respectful notes. Really, Louise wasin a quandary, and she frankly admitted to Arthur that she had broughtthis embarrassment upon herself. Yet Arthur could do or say little tocomfort her. He longed secretly to "punch Mershone's head," but couldfind no occasion for such decided action.
Diana, during this time, treated both Arthur and Louise with markedcordiality. Believing her time would come to take part in the comedy sherefrained from interfering prematurely with the progress of events. Shemanaged to meet her accomplice at frequent intervals and was pleasedthat there was no necessity to urge Charlie to do his utmost inseparating the lovers.
"I'm bound to win, Di," he said grimly, "for I love the girl even betterthan I do her fortune. And of one thing you may rest assured; Weldonshall never marry her."
"What will you do?" asked Diana, curiously.
"Anything! Everything that is necessary to accomplish my purpose."
"Be careful," said she warningly. "Keep a cool head, Charlie, and don'tdo anything foolish. Still--"
"Well?"
"If it is necessary to take a few chances, do it. Arthur Weldon must notmarry Louise Merrick!"