*CHAPTER XV*
*TWISTED COILS*
"If you can finish, Juliet, without further assistance from me, Ibelieve I will go and look for the Camp Fire girls. They have been sobusy with their own affairs of late, I feel slightly neglected. Then dotake a walk, or lie down, whichever you prefer. You have been looking alittle nervous and pale of late. I would understand if you had beenworking hard, but we both have been having a holiday."
Mrs. Burton stood before her mirror making soft little pats at her hair,characteristic of all girls and women.
She had on a house dress of crepe de chine in a curious shade of oldgold with a girdle of brown velvet.
"I can't become accustomed to my appearance in this dress, Juliet. Itseems to me I look rather worse than usual. I wish it were becoming toyou so I might present it to you, but I am afraid the color is wrong."
Juliet Temple made no reply and seemed scarcely to have heard what hadbeen said to her. She was seated at a desk with several bills and acheck book before her.
As Mrs. Burton, preparing to leave the room, opened the door, she saidin a low tone:
"Would you mind signing these checks before you go? One is for the rentof the apartment."
"Tante, won't you come for a ride with us around the island? We won'tbe long!" Bettina Graham called at the same instant from outside in thehall.
"Wait a moment, dear, and I'll join you. Give me the checks, Juliet,please. What an abominable pen! Are the three all you wish me tosign?"
"Yes, all for the present," Juliet answered, gathering them hastilytogether and placing one over the other.
At the same time Mrs. Burton went out of the room.
"I don't feel like driving, Bettina. I was intending to see what yougirls were doing and perhaps have an impromptu Camp Fire meeting. Wehave been neglecting our Council meetings of late and it is not a goodplan, yet I know it is difficult with so many masculine guests to beentertained. Who is going for the drive?"
"Oh, no one except my shadows, as you call my two small girls, and DavidHale and Marguerite Arnot. Marguerite has been so busy helping motherlook after the house she and David have scarcely been able to exchange aword, and you know I always have wished them to be friends. Mother saidshe would go if you liked, but not otherwise."
"Are the other girls here? I'll find mother when she has rested, I knowthis is the hour she lies down."
"Yes, I think they are in the house somewhere. I am not sure aboutSally. I heard Dan ask her to go for a row and heard Sally decline, butshe may have changed her mind, even Sally sometimes does change hermind--for Dan.
"I must hurry, but if you pass my room, dear, will you look at the oldEnglish prints that father found and presented me for my sitting-room.They are so lovely I feel mother should have them, but she insists not."
Bettina ran off down the stairs and Mrs. Burton moved toward the frontof the old house, where Bettina's apartment of bedroom and sitting-roomwas located.
Coming toward her through the hall with a book under his arm was AllanDrain.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Burton, if I am intruding by being up here,when I know this second floor is the feminine part of the house, butMiss Bettina told me I could get this book from her bookcase. I wastrying to escape without being discovered."
The Camp Fire guardian laughed.
"Oh, the situation is not so serious as that. You need not run away.Stop a moment, won't you? I want to speak to you. I have beenintending to for the past ten days. I am afraid you think I am unkindand selfish not to allow you to read your new play to me. I know Mrs.Graham tried to explain as pleasantly as possible, but the fact remainsthat I did refuse, even when she asked me and I don't like to refuse hermany things. I was tired; you see I have not acted for a number ofyears and the past winter was a good deal of a strain. Besides, I am thepoorest kind of a critic! I want you to know that I trust your play willbe a great success, and if not this, then the next one. It is a longand oftentimes difficult road you have started to travel, yet I presumeit is like acting, if the thing is in your blood, you must keep at itthrough good and ill. Forgive me and understand my attitude. I amafraid I am growing more selfish as I grow older, but I don't wish youto feel this all unkindness, I might have to say something discouragingand I might be wrong and then I should have hurt you for nothing."
Polly Burton held out her hand in the simple, friendly fashioncharacteristic of her. As the young fellow took it and held it for aninstant she saw in his face the beauty and honor of a sincere and ardentadmiration, not for her as a woman, but as an artist.
"Thank you," he returned, "I do understand and I have not the leastright to trouble you. You have been too kind in the past. The road ishard because I have my living to make and cannot afford to work and waitas one should. I only trust I have the courage to hold out."
Waiting for Mrs. Burton to move away, his eyes never left her,consciously studying the slender, graceful figure, the small head withits mass of dark hair and the brilliant blue eyes, the mark of her Irishinheritance, yet of less interest than the long, too thin face, with thepointed chin and the irregular, deeply colored lips.
"Have you a name for your play? The title is so important. I hated thetitle of mine last winter, in spite of its Shakespearean significance itwas too difficult to say, 'A Tide in the Affairs'."
"Yes, I think I have. Only the other night Miss Gilchrist, Gill, gaveit to me by accident while we waited for the coming of morning by ourCamp Fire. She spoke of flame as 'The Red Flower'. Do you like it,'The Red Flower', as a title?"
Mrs. Burton uttered a little exclamation.
"Yes, I do, immensely. See here, Allan, would you like to compromisewith me and allow me to read your play to myself. If I like it I shalltell you so; if I don't I shall say nothing, so as not to influence you.In any case I should prefer not having you read it aloud. Most personsread so poorly and if they don't, it is more confusing. I can get myown impression much better if I am alone and it is under my own eyes."
Allan gripped the mahogany post of the balustrade until the veins stoodup on his hands.
"You mean you really will read it? Of course I should rather you wouldread it to yourself. I should be sure to make a wreck of it. Yet Iought not to be such a nuisance, and please don't think I expect you tosay anything good of it."
Again Mrs. Burton laughed.
"Look here, Allan, I know the artistic temperament too well to bedeceived by you. You don't mind being a nuisance one bit if you canhave your own way, no one of us artists minds. And, my dear boy, ofcourse you expect me to say your play is good; if you did not, you wouldnever allow me to look at it. You expect this one moment and the nextyou are in utter despair because you are convinced it is the poorestplay ever written or conceived.
"I'll do my best for you, only you must not worry if I am rather a timegetting at it. I must rest and forget the theater for a little longer."
"I shall wait forever, if you desire and be everlastingly gratefulalways," Allan said so fervently that Polly Burton, recalling her ownyouth had an emotion of sympathy and determined not to keep him waitingfor her judgment for any great length of time.
Bettina's sitting-room door was open and the moment after she went inand stood looking about the room.
Youth was always hard to understand, even if it understood itself, whichit never does.
Here was Bettina's little apartment as exquisite as any girl could dreamof, or desire. The rugs were of a wonderful blue, the color she lovedbest, the walls more lightly colored, the furniture not the massivemahogany of most old southern houses, but of an English design, thefamous Chippendale. Outside her windows Bettina had a view of the bluelagoon and the wider bay beyond. Yet she preferred to leave all thisbeauty and luxury and spend her life in the slums.
"Well, life is only an expression of human personality, and if Bettinais in earnest, she has the right to do what she wishes,
" Mrs. Burtonthought, as she picked up one of the prints Bettina had asked her toexamine.
As she stood holding it in her hand she heard Alice Ashton and VeraLagerloff talking together in the adjoining room with the door betweenpartly open.
"Don't you think, Vera, that one or the other of us should go at once toAunt Patricia? I know she said neither of us was to come, but that doesnot alter our responsibility. She must need some one."
Mrs. Burton put down the picture she scarcely had seen and took a stepforward, then paused.
"It is so impossible to think of Aunt Patricia as poor, isn't it? Eversince we have known her she has been lavishing her wealth in everydirection, upon every one except herself. It is like her now to declarethat she has paid the rent of our little New York apartment for a yearand that we are not to think of making any changes before then. Don'tyou suppose we can persuade her to come and live with us for the presentat least until she decides what she wishes to do permanently?" Verasuggested.
"Yes, but Aunt Patricia insists she is going to find work, that at lastshe is glad she never has had a gray hair. She seems really not to beso unhappy over the situation as we are for her. Her only fearapparently is that we shall take Tante into our confidence concerningher. And frankly this makes me uncomfortable! I think Tante should betold. But I shall leave you to talk the matter over with Aunt Betty. Iam going to Boston in the morning. I shall see father and mother andask them to go with me to Aunt Patricia's house, it is just outside oftown. Then we can face the situation together."
"An excellent idea, Alice, but I shall go in your place. I have justoverheard what you and Vera were saying. As you were speaking of AuntPatricia and I think it my right to know of her, notwithstanding herattitude toward me, I made no effort not to hear.
"Now, please tell me in detail so far as you know what has occurred."
An instant Alice Ashton hesitated, but there was something in her CampFire guardian's manner and expression that commanded obedience. Veryseldom in her life had she assumed this attitude, when she did, no onedreamed of opposing her.
"Why, yes, Tante, I'll tell you and am very glad to be relieved of theresponsibility. This morning unexpectedly Vera and I received a longletter from Aunt Patricia. We had not heard in several weeks. In theletter she explains that she had been intending to write for some time,but was waiting until she understood more definitely what condition heraffairs were in. She stated that she had known for some time that shehad been spending too much money and had drawn upon her capital, as wellas using her entire income. Her lawyer has told her several times thatshe must retrench, but being Aunt Patricia she had paid no attention tohim. Well, the climax came when Aunt Patricia learned that the home sheis erecting for war orphans in France is to cost double what she hadexpected it would cost. The fault has been chiefly her own; she hasbeen adding all kinds of things, playgrounds and an outdoor school and aspecially fitted-up hospital for the children in a separate building.You may know more than I do about it.
"When she went to her lawyers with the information that she requiredtwice the sum she originally told them to raise, they declared thiscould not be accomplished without leaving her virtually penniless. Shetoo had been buying oil stock like the rest of the world, hoping to gainmore money for her orphans and the stock had turned out to be worthless.
"Aunt Patricia does not seem to care a great deal. She announces thatshe has secured the necessary money for her war orphans and the buildingwill be completed with all the recent improvements. She apologizesbecause she will not have the money to allow Vera and me continue ourcollege course when this year is over. Neither will she be able to keepup her place in Boston, but this is incidental."
"Oh, that will make no special difference to Aunt Patricia, as she neverhas been fond of the place. It was her brother's home and they werevery different characters. She will live with me in the future."
Observing Vera and Alice exchange a glance, Mrs. Burton smiled.
"You don't believe she will consent to this, do you, considering thefact that she has declined to speak to me for nearly a year?Nevertheless I assure you she will. It is not worth while for you toaccompany me, Alice; I prefer to go to Boston alone. I shall bring AuntPatricia here until we make our summer plans. I must find Mrs. Grahamnow and learn whether Aunt Patricia has written her. Good-by."
A moment later the two friends met face to face.
"I have been looking for you in your own room, Polly. Come into myroom, won't you? I have just received a surprising letter from AuntPatricia in which she insists I am not to confide her misfortune to you.This is nonsense, when you are the one person in the world who can giveher the affection and help she requires. I don't believe Aunt Patriciawill care particularly for the loss of her fortune if the loss restoresyou to her."
"Thank you, Betty, dear, you need feel no anxiety. Now that I may beable to do something for Aunt Patricia, and not accept everything fromher, I have not the least idea of permitting her to behave in her old,obstinate, absurd fashion. Thank goodness, we shall be friends soonagain; no one dreams how much I have missed her during this pastwinter!"
"You don't think Aunt Patricia will refuse to see you?"
Polly Burton shook her head.
"I don't care in the least if she does refuse at first. There areoccasions, Betty, dear, when you know I can be as obstinate a woman asAunt Patricia Lord. I shall be away about five days. You will let mebring her back with me?"