Read The Strange Proposal Page 5


  And then his heart sprang back to last night. Sharp as a sword thrust through his heart went the thought that he ought not to think about Mary Elizabeth anymore. And yet his human heart went throbbing on and loving her in spite of all.

  How he longed to jump on a train and go back to the place where he had left her. Of course, she wouldn’t still be there. She didn’t live there, and she would have started home by this time. Finally he could stand it no longer and he called the hotel, asking for Miss Wainwright. He had decided that he would tell her he had been anxious lest she had not reached the hotel safely alone last night. That was a poor excuse of course, and she would laugh at it, but it would be so good just to hear her voice, even in a bit of laughter.

  But he was promptly told that Miss Wainwright had checked out early that morning, and he hung up with a dreary, desolate feeling that his dream had turned into practical everyday living and wouldn’t ever come back. He had mailed his letter early that morning, against his better judgment. His judgment said it ought to be revised and contain less revelation of his own foolish heart and its deep feelings. But judgment had been set aside, and he had sternly mailed the letter. He told himself he had promised to write that letter, and now it was done and it was up to her.

  He wandered up to the shopping district, which he knew well from his college days, and bought his mother a lovely little soft-gray dress. It wasn’t the kind of dress she usually wore, and she wouldn’t likely have much place to wear it, but something in him yearned to bring into the life of his sweet little patient mother a bit of the beauty he had seen in other women last night. He got his father some shirts and ties, things he knew he needed, and his heart went out to them in a deeper love than he often took time to realize. They might be plain and unsophisticated, and many people might despise them, yet so all the more he would love and be loyal to them.

  When he had finished his purchases, spending more than he really could afford, he idled past Tiffany’s, lingered, went back, and finally went in. He wanted to find out just what really nice diamonds cost. Not as large and wonderful perhaps as that diamond must have been that she wore last night. He knew that there were rings of comparatively small dimensions that cost fabulous sums, but he wanted to see for himself just what one ought to spend for a reasonable ring, if ever he should see his way clear to get one—and if he should have anyone to get it for.

  He came away from Tiffany’s a sadder and wiser man and went thoughtfully to the museum to use the remaining hours before his train left in something more profitable than dreams.

  Chapter 5

  Despite the fact that Mary Elizabeth had slept very little the night before, she was up and around quite early the morning after the wedding. She had several fish to catch and fry before she left town, and she didn’t intend to miss one of them.

  She had her door a tiny crack ajar and kept watch as the different members of the wedding party came from their rooms. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, because she wasn’t sure how early they were going to start.

  The bride’s mother was the first to come out, with Miss York in a trim traveling suit of sheer brown and a becoming brown hat.

  Mary Elizabeth was on hand, fresh as a rose, as the elevator clanged its doors open to take them down. She had a letter in her hand to mail, and she greeted Mrs. Chrystie enthusiastically. Mary Elizabeth liked the bride’s shy, sweet little mother and looked her over approvingly. Her dress of soft black and white silk was most becoming, and there was a faint, haunting memory of Camilla in her eyes. Mary Elizabeth had fallen very much in love with her cousin’s new bride, although she had had such a brief fleeting acquaintance on the wedding day.

  “My dear!” said Mrs. Chrystie. “I’m glad you are here yet. I was so troubled last night when I couldn’t find you. I wanted to thank you personally for coming in at the last minute and taking that important place in the wedding party. So many girls wouldn’t have been willing. It was most gracious and lovely of you. And you did your part so perfectly, without having to be told a thing. Of course, you’ve been in so many such functions before, it wouldn’t seem the bug-bear to you that it would be to a lot of girls.”

  “Oh, I just enjoyed it, Mrs. Chrystie. Jeff has always been like a brother to me, and it was lovely to have an intimate part like that in his wedding,” said Mary Elizabeth.

  “Well, Camilla appreciated it more than she had time to tell you. The last word she said to me was to ask me to please hunt you up and tell you that you were just wonderful. She’ll write you, of course, but she wanted me to tell you especially.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad she was pleased. She’s lovely, Mrs. Chrystie. I was afraid I was going to be horribly jealous of anybody who married Jeff; we’ve always been so close. He couldn’t be dearer to me if I were his own sister, though of course we haven’t seen so much of each other the last five years while I’ve been abroad. But he’s a dear! And I’m just crazy about Camilla. She suits him. She’s perfect. I couldn’t have dreamed a girl for him any better. I’m so pleased. I do hope we’re going to be so situated that we can see a good deal of each other. I never had a sister, and I’ve always wanted one. She looks like the sister I’ve always imagined.”

  “Why, how sweet of you, dear. I know Camilla will enjoy you. And by the way, she wanted me to tell you that Jeff was so pleased that you made his friend Mr. Saxon have such a pleasant evening. He said Mr. Saxon was usually rather quiet and reticent, especially with ladies, and he had been afraid he wouldn’t have a good time. He had asked Camilla to be sure to introduce her old friends to him, but really, Camilla’s old friends all seemed to have so many of their own friends around them that there wasn’t any chance. And you took the whole responsibility and made Mr. Saxon feel at home. Camilla said she watched him and she was sure he had a good time.”

  Mary Elizabeth was not pale, even after her night’s vigil, but the quick eyes of Miss York saw the color rise a little warmer in her smooth cheeks and a softened light come into her eyes.

  “Yes?” said Mary Elizabeth quickly, her voice in perfect control. “Why, anybody would be honored to have the privilege of entertaining Mr. Saxon. He is—a most interesting—person, don’t you think, Mrs. Chrystie? I certainly enjoyed every minute of the evening. I thought Jeff ought to be proud that he came so far to be best man. And I understand he is a very busy person indeed. Science of some sort, isn’t that his line? He was very—versatile. I didn’t find him reticent at all!”

  Mary Elizabeth’s eyes were dancing now with subdued lights, and Miss York didn’t miss a glint, and there was a little upward curve to her lips that had not been there last night when she had discussed Miss Wainwright with Mrs. Chrystie. She was beginning to feel that there was more to Mary Elizabeth than she had at first thought.

  “Well, then, you must have interested him,” laughed Mrs. Chrystie. “And now, I do hope we shall see more of you. Are you leaving this morning?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” said Mary Elizabeth. “It all depends on Aunt Clarice. They’re driving home and I promised to drive in their wake, and there’s no telling what time they will appear on the scene. Aunt Clarice likes her morning rest. You know I drove Dad down yesterday afternoon, but he took the midnight train back home. He had some business this morning that he couldn’t be away from, so I’ll just take in some other member of the family, I suppose. Are you leaving?”

  “Yes, Miss York and I are driving up in Camilla’s old car. She’s willed it to me, though Miss York is the driver. You met Miss York last night, didn’t you? She’s our good angel, you know.”

  “I didn’t meet her,” said Mary Elizabeth with a warm little smile, “but I wondered who she was last night, and I’m glad to know her. I often need angels myself, guardian ones, and I might want to borrow her.”

  She put out her soft, shapely hand and gave Miss York a warm grip, and that woman was heartily won over. She noticed, too, as Mary Elizabeth turned away, that the big glowing diamond she had glimpsed on her hand last nig
ht wasn’t there this morning. Perhaps she had been mistaken in her judgment.

  Mary Elizabeth went over to the desk and mailed a letter she had written about some trivial matter, and after buying a morning paper, sat herself down to watch the elevators for the next one of her victims. While she pretended to read the news in which she wasn’t in the least interested, she reflected that she hadn’t gotten much information so far concerning John Saxon. And yet, as she held the paper before her eyes, her lips were smiling. John Saxon was reticent, was he? He hadn’t sounded especially so as they came down the aisle together last night!

  It was Uncle Warren and Aunt Fran who came down next to breakfast and paused in the lobby to greet her.

  “What, up so early, Mary Liz?” greeted Uncle Warren playfully. “I thought you’d have to take your beauty sleep this morning after being up so late last night.”

  “I wasn’t up so very late last night, Uncle War,” protested Mary Elizabeth quickly. “I wasn’t up much later than you, I’ll dare say. I’m sure I saw your evening coat disappearing into the elevator just as I was about to go up myself.”

  “You don’t say!” said Uncle Warren. “And what did you do with the big bronze giant? Or are you waiting now for him to come down and play golf or something? I saw you took quite a shine to each other last night. But look out, Mary Liz! He’s a poor man. Jeff told me that yesterday. A poor man and a genius! You should never break the heart of a genius, Mary Liz. It unfits him to be a public benefactor. And besides, I understand Jeff picked him up in a Florida swamp somewhere, and he wouldn’t be your style nor able to go your gait, so I suppose you’re wise to take up with that nice, settled, staid Grandma Farwell. He can give you quarts of diamonds and take you to all the horse shows in the world and keep a general eye on your behavior. For you must own, Mary Liz, that you’re an awful flirt, and I don’t want any of Jeff’s protégés trifled with!”

  “Oh, Uncle Warren, aren’t you complimentary!” said Mary Elizabeth with a gay little ripple of a laugh. “As if you didn’t know that it was part of my duties last night to entertain the best man and make sure he had a good time! But you needn’t worry about him, you gorgeous old fraud, you. I understand he’s left for parts unknown and he probably won’t appear on the scene again.”

  “You understand! Hmm! You understand!” said Uncle Warren.

  “And as for Boothby Farwell,” said Mary Elizabeth coolly, “I’m not looking for an overseer just now, thank you, though I suppose from your point of view I need one badly.”

  “Well, forget it, Mary Liz!” said her uncle, patting her cheek. “Had your breakfast? Why don’t you come on in with us? Or are you waiting for some younger man to stroll by and ask you, my dear?”

  “I’m waiting for Aunt Clarice to come down. I promised I’d take some of their party in my car, and I’ve got to find out just what she wants of me.”

  Aunt Fran patted her hand lovingly and passed on to the dining room with her jocular old husband, and Mary Elizabeth settled down to her paper again.

  But she had time to read the paper several times through before the other uncle and aunt appeared, for they were having a discussion while they dressed.

  “I liked that best man Jeff selected,” the bridegroom’s father was saying as he stretched his chin to give the last jerk to his tie.

  “He was all right,” said Jeffrey’s mother, “only I think it was such a pity he couldn’t have chosen one of his own classmates or someone in our set. It really isn’t worthwhile to go out of your way to hurt people’s feelings. There is Gerry Appleton—Jeff knows his mother is one of my very dearest friends.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with it. Jeff only gets married once—I hope—and why in Sam Hill can’t he choose whomever he wants to be his best man? I can’t think of Jeff ever choosing that little sissy of a Gerry, anyway.”

  “Really, Robert!” said his wife with dignity. “I don’t understand your speaking that way of a son of an old family. It’s bad enough for Jeff to have chosen a wife from an obscure family, a wife who had to go to work to earn her living, without having him go to the ends of the earth to haul up a nobody for his chief attendant at the wedding.”

  “Now look here, Clarice, it’s time you got this thing straight,” said her husband, facing her firmly, with a glance of intensity from under his shaggy white eyebrows. “I told you very clearly that Camilla’s family is just as fine and old as our own, and there have been several men of note in both her father’s and mother’s lines. I think you ought to put that idea out of your head once and for all. She is good and beautiful, and she loves Jeff and he loves her, and that is enough, anyway. It was noble of her to go to work to support her mother when her father’s fortune was destroyed through the wrongdoing of their bankers. Would you have admired her any more if she had settled down on some of her distant relatives to be supported, or let her mother go to a home? Now for Jeff’s sake and for her sake and for all our sakes, you’ve got to put that snobbery away forever. Camilla is just as good as we are. And I’m saying that I liked that best man very much, and I thought you did, too. You said so last night when you told me how much Jeff admired him.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Robert Wainwright. “He was all right. He is very good-looking of course, and appeared quite impressive standing up there by Jeffrey. But I am annoyed at Betty Wainwright that she should have made herself so prominent in his company all the evening. It wasn’t required of her at all. She could have been polite without fairly falling into his arms. We certainly don’t want two of our family going into obscurity for life, do we? Really, I am worried about Betty. Her father lets her have her own way too much. Your brother Samuel always was too easy! You know I said that long ago.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call Mary Elizabeth ‘Betty!” said Uncle Robert in an irritated tone. “Betty!” he snorted. “It undignifies her good old-fashioned name. And as for the way she treated Saxon, I thought it was modesty itself!”

  “Oh, yes, you always think everything that girl does is all right. You’re just like Samuel. You haven’t an idea how careful a girl has to be these days. It’s a good thing we didn’t have any daughters, for you would have spoiled them terribly. I shall have to speak to my niece, I’m afraid. She needs a woman’s advice.”

  “You let Mary Elizabeth alone!” said her husband. “She’s nice and sweet and good, and she doesn’t need advice. She’s doing well enough bringing herself up. Now, are you ready at last? Where is Sam? Talk about spoiling, I don’t see why you can’t understand you are spoiling Sam, letting him sleep every morning as late as he pleases. He’ll never amount to shucks if he doesn’t learn to get up early in the morning. I’ve threatened him with cutting his allowance, but you always manage to excuse him somehow.”

  So they went down to meet their niece, who arose with a smile to welcome them and did seem to justify all that her doting uncle had said of her.

  Aunt Clarice gave her an indulgent kiss and surveyed her critically.

  “You’re looking a little pale, Betty dear,” she said as they walked together to the dining room. “I do hope your duties last evening as maid of honor were not too strenuous. It was hardly fair of Camilla to ask you that way at the last minute, you having no chance to prepare a special dress or anything. You did very well, of course, but it must have been trying, dear.”

  “Oh, not at all, Aunt Clarice,” twinkled Mary Elizabeth, slipping on the armor that she always used in conversation with this aunt. “I had the time of my life. I enjoyed every minute of the evening.”

  “Well, that was good of you, but I think, if you ask me, that they might have raked up somebody from their own friends, if they had to have a maid of honor at all, since they didn’t ask you at first. They really should have asked you in the first place, you know, Betty Wainwright! It was quite the proper thing, since Camilla hadn’t seen her own friends in a long time. It is certainly a wonder it all went off as well as it did.”

  “Oh, I thought
it was beautiful!” said Mary Elizabeth. “And Camilla made such a precious bride. I’m just going to love her, Aunt Clarice!”

  “Yes, she did very well,” admitted the bride’s new mother-in-law with a sigh. “It wasn’t what I’d planned for my son, but I think she’ll be all right. Of course, it’s a satisfaction that he’s settled down at last and didn’t do any worse. Jeff always was erratic, you know. But I’m very well satisfied.”

  “I thought it was a perfect wedding, Aunt Clarice, with not a thing to be criticized. Those bridesmaids were sweet, and the ushers were all Jeff’s friends, and the best man was a peach! I’d never met him before, you know. How long has Jeff known him?”

  “Only just this winter!” said Aunt Clarice with a resigned sigh. “And that was another regrettable thing, of course, though it went off quite smoothly, thanks to your kind offices. He’s only a passing acquaintance that Jeff took an interest in. He’s really nothing but a sort of teacher, or coach—scoutmaster I believe they called him. He took Sam out with a crowd of boys for a camping trip. Jeff went along to see that all was right, and this is the result! But then, Jeff always was so democratic! And Sam just simply lost his head over him. I can’t quite make it out, though I suppose it’s all right, now it’s over anyway, and we’ll likely never see him again. Are you going to have grapefruit or melon, Betty dear? They do have such a limited menu in this rural hotel, though it’s very good what they have, of course, and it did turn out to be quite convenient.”

  Mary Elizabeth’s eyes danced. She had found out something more about John Saxon. So Sam was crazy over him! Then perhaps Sam could be made the key to her situation.

  “Melon, please!” said Mary Elizabeth and then turned a glowing face to her aunt.