CHAPTER XVI
IN THE SUNNY SOUTH
It was the cottage of a New York millionaire which had fallen toBrewster. The owner had, for the time, preferred Italy to St.Augustine, and left his estate, which was well located and lavishlyequipped, in the hands of his friends. Brewster's lease covered threemonths, at a fabulous rate per month. With Joe Bragdon installed asmanager-in-chief, his establishment was transferred bodily from NewYork, and the rooms were soon as comfortable as their grandeur wouldpermit. Brewster was not allowed to take advantage of his horses andthe new automobile which preceded him from New York, but to his gueststhey offered unlimited opportunities. "Nopper" Harrison had remained inthe north to renew arrangements for the now hated ball and to lookafter the advance details of the yacht cruise. Dr. Lotless and hissister, with "Subway" Smith and the Grays, made up Brewster's party.Lotless dampened Monty's spirits by relentlessly putting him on rigiddiet, with most discouraging restrictions upon his conduct. The periodof convalescence was to be an exceedingly trying one for the invalid.At first he was kept in-doors, and the hours were whiled away byplaying cards. But Monty considered "bridge" the "pons asinorum," andpreferred to play piquet with Peggy. It was one of these games that thegirl interrupted with a question that had troubled her for many days."Monty," she said, and she found it much more difficult than when shehad rehearsed the scene in the silence of her walks; "I've heard arumor that Miss Drew and her mother have taken rooms at the hotel.Wouldn't it be pleasanter to have them here?"
A heavy gloom settled upon Brewster's face, and the girl's heartdropped like lead. She had puzzled over the estrangement, and wonderedif by any effort of her own things could be set right. At times she hadhad flashing hopes that it did not mean as much to Monty as she hadthought. But down underneath, the fear that he was unhappy seemed theonly certain thing in life. She felt that she must make sure. Andtogether with the very human desire to know the worst, was thepuritanical impulse to bring it about.
"You forget that this is the last place they would care to invade." Andin Brewster's face Peggy seemed to read that for her martyrdom was theonly wear. Bravely she put it on.
"Monty, I forget nothing that I really know. But this is a case inwhich you are quite wrong. Where is your sporting blood? You have neverfought a losing fight before, and you can't do it now. You have lostyour nerve, Monty. Don't you see that this is the time for anaggressive campaign?" Somehow she was not saying things at all as shehad planned to say them. And his gloom weighed heavily upon her. "Youdon't mind, do you, Monty," she added, more softly, "this sort of thingfrom me? I know I ought not to interfere, but I've known you so long.And I hate to see things twisted by a very little mistake."
But Monty did mind enormously. He had no desire to talk about the thinganyway, and Peggy's anxiety to marry him off seemed a bit unnecessary.Manifestly her own interest in him was of the coldest. From out of thegloom he looked at her somewhat sullenly. For the moment she wasthinking only of his pain, and her face said nothing.
"Peggy," he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answeringher, "you don't in the least know what you are talking about. It is nota fit of anger on Barbara Drew's part. It is a serious conviction."
"A conviction which can be changed," the girl broke in.
"Not at all." Brewster took it up. "She has no faith in me. She thinksI'm an ass."
"Perhaps she's right," she exclaimed, a little hot. "Perhaps you havenever discovered that girls say many things to hide their emotions.Perhaps you don't realize what feverish, exclamatory, foolish thingsgirls are. They don't know how to be honest with the men they love, andthey wouldn't if they did. You are little short of an idiot, MontyBrewster, if you believed the things she said rather than the thingsshe looked."
And Peggy, fiery and determined and defiantly unhappy, threw down hercards and escaped so that she might not prove herself tearfullyfeminine. She left Brewster still heavily enveloped in melancholy; butshe left him puzzled. He began to wonder if Barbara Drew did havesomething in the back of her mind. Then he found his thoughts wanderingoff toward Peggy and her defiance. He had only twice before seen her inthat mood, and he liked it. He remembered how she had lost her temperonce when she was fifteen, and hated a girl he admired. Suddenly helaughed aloud at the thought of the fierce little picture she had made,and the gloom, which had been so sedulously cultivated, was dissipatedin a moment. The laugh surprised the man who brought in some letters.One of them was from "Nopper" Harrison, and gave him all the privatenews. The ball was to be given at mid-Lent, which arrived toward theend of March, and negotiations were well under way for the charteringof the "Flitter," the steam-yacht belonging to Reginald Brown, late ofBrown & Brown.
The letter made Brewster chafe under the bonds of inaction. His affairswere getting into a discouraging state. The illness was certain toentail a loss of more than $50,000 to his business. His onlyconsolation came through Harrison's synopsis of the reports fromGardner, who was managing the brief American tour of the Vienneseorchestra. Quarrels and dissensions were becoming every-dayembarrassments, and the venture was an utter failure from a financialpoint of view. Broken contracts and lawsuits were turning the tour intoone continuous round of losses, and poor Gardner was on the point ofdespair. From the beginning, apparently, the concerts had been markedfor disaster. Public indifference had aroused the scorn of theirascible members of the orchestra, and there was imminent danger of acollapse in the organization. Gardner lived in constant fear that histroop of quarrelsome Hungarians would finish their tour suddenly in apitched battle with daggers and steins. Brewster smiled at the thoughtof practical Gardner trying to smooth down the electric emotions ofthese musicians.
A few days later Mrs. Prentiss Drew and Miss Drew registered at thePonce de Leon, and there was much speculation upon the chances for areconciliation. Monty, however, maintained a strict silence on thesubject, and refused to satisfy the curiosity of his friends. Mrs. Drewhad brought down a small crowd, including two pretty Kentucky girls anda young Chicago millionaire. She lived well and sensibly, with none ofthe extravagance that characterized the cottage. Yet it was inevitablethat Brewster's guests should see hers and join some of their ridingparties. Monty pleaded that he was not well enough to be in theseexcursions, but neither he nor Barbara cared to over-emphasize theirestrangement.
Peggy Gray was in despair over Monty's attitude. She had becomeconvinced that behind his pride he was cherishing a secret longing forBarbara. Yet she could not see how the walls were to be broken down ifhe maintained this icy reserve. She was sure that the masterful tonewas the one to win with a girl like that, but evidently Monty would notaccept advice. That he was mistaken about Barbara's feeling she did notdoubt for a moment, and she saw things going hopelessly wrong for wantof a word. There were times when she let herself dream ofpossibilities, but they always ended by seeming too impossible. Shecared too much to make the attainment of her vision seem simple. Shecared too much to be sure of anything.
At moments she fancied that she might say a word to Miss Drew whichwould straighten things out. But there was something about her whichheld her off. Even now that they were thrown together more or less shecould not get beyond a certain barrier. It was not until a sunny daywhen she had accepted Barbara's invitation to drive that things seemedto go more easily. For the first time she felt the charm of the girl,and for the first time Barbara seemed unreservedly friendly. It was aquiet drive they were taking through the woods and out along the beach,and somehow in the open air things simplified themselves. Finally, inthe softness and the idle warmth, even an allusion to Monty, whose nameusually meant an embarrassing change of subject, began to seempossible. It was inevitable that Peggy should bring it in; for with hera question of tact was never allowed to dominate when things of momentwere at stake. She cowered before the plunge, but she took it unafraid.
"The doctor says Monty may go out driving to-morrow," she began. "Isn'tthat fine?"
Barbara's only response was to touch her pony a li
ttle too sharply withthe whip. Peggy went on as if unconscious of the challenge.
"He has been bored to death, poor fellow, in the house all this time,and--"
"Miss Gray, please do not mention Mr. Brewster's name to me again,"interrupted Barbara, with a contraction of the eyebrows. But Peggy wasseized with a spirit of defiance and plunged recklessly on.
"What is the use, Miss Drew, of taking an attitude like that? I knowthe situation pretty well, and I can't believe that either Monty or youhas lost in a week a feeling that was so deep-seated. I know Monty muchtoo well to think that he would change so easily." Peggy still livedlargely in her ideals. "And you are too fine a thing not to havesuffered under this misunderstanding. It seems as if a very small wordwould set you both straight."
Barbara drew herself up and kept her eyes on the road which lay whiteand gleaming in the sun. "I have not the least desire to be setstraight." And she was never more serious.
"But it was only a few weeks ago that you were engaged."
"I am sorry," answered Barbara, "that it should have been talked aboutso much. Mr. Brewster did ask me to marry him, but I never accepted. Infact, it was only his persistence that made me consider the matter atall. I did think about it. I confess that I rather liked him. But itwas not long before I found him out."
"What do you mean?" And there was a flash in Peggy's eyes. "What has hedone?"
"To my certain knowledge he has spent more than four hundred thousanddollars since last September. That is something, is it not?" Miss Drewsaid, in her slow, cool voice, and even Peggy's loyalty admitted somejustification in the criticism.
"Generosity has ceased to be a virtue, then?" she asked coldly.
"Generosity!" exclaimed Barbara, sharply. "It's sheer idiocy. Haven'tyou heard the things people are saying? They are calling him a fool,and in the clubs they are betting that he will be a pauper within ayear."
"Yet they charitably help him to spend his money. And I have noticedthat even worldly mammas find him eligible." The comment was notwithout its caustic side.
"That was months ago, my dear," protested Barbara, calmly. "When hespoke to me--he told me it would be impossible for him to marry withina year. And don't you see that a year may make him an abject beggar?"
"Naturally anything is preferable to a beggar," came in Peggy's clear,soft voice.
Barbara hesitated only a moment.
"Well, you must admit, Miss Gray, that it shows a shameful lack ofcharacter. How could any girl be happy with a man like that? And, afterall, one must look out for one's own fate."
"Undoubtedly," replied Peggy, but many thoughts were dashing throughher brain.
"Shall we turn back to the cottage?" she said, after an awkward silence.
"You certainly don't approve of Mr. Brewster's conduct?" Barbara didnot like to be placed in the wrong, and felt that she must endeavor tojustify herself. "He is the most reckless of spend-thrifts, we know,and he probably indulges in even less respectable excitement."
Peggy was not tall, but she carried her head at this moment as thoughshe were in the habit of looking down on the world.
"Aren't you going a little too far, Miss Drew?" she asked placidly.
"It is not only New York that laughs at his Quixotic transactions,"Barbara persisted. "Mr. Hampton, our guest from Chicago, says thestories are worse out there than they are in the east."
"It is a pity that Monty's illness should have made him so weak," saidPeggy quietly, as they turned in through the great iron gates, andBarbara was not slow to see the point.