Bab: A Sub Deb

M >> Mary Roberts Rinehart >> Bab: A Sub Deb


I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane
did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope.

Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and
said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was
over. I think a paller must have come over me, and Jane said:

"Bab! Do you dare?"

I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to
be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my SAVOIR FAIR,
and stopped shaking.

I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her.
She then said:

"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it."

Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The
entire seen is engraved on my Soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes,
in spite of my eforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his
mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next
seen, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II!

He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand.

"Well!" he said. "At last!"

He did not seem to mind the VALET, whom he treated like a chair or
table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes.

Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again
will I know such ecstacy as at that moment.

"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets today,
isn't it? And so you like the Play?"

I was by that time somwhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my
knees feeling queer.

"I think it is magnifacent," I said.

"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have
to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screan for that very
purpose."

He went behind the screan, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the
top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would
the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorce. I was there, and
beyond the screan, changing into the garments of penury, was the only
member of the Other Sex I had ever felt I could truly care for.

Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was
perfectly respectfull, and only his eyes showed his true feelings.
The woman who is the Adventuress in the play came to the Door, but he
motioned her away with a waive of the hand. And at last it was over, and
he was asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of
his pictures.

I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a
w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y----


JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse.

Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore
about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked
him to meet me in the Park, and said that there were only to more days,
this being Thursday.


LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father will
do it.

He says the Theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that the
way to do is to put that strongly before the people.

"Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factery, and
demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be starving
and say: `The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'"

"But supose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed.

"Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. It
ought to be aranged that he not only be refused, but what's more, that
he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you see, so they'll
throw him out. And we'll have Reporters there, so the story can get
around. You get it, don't you? Your friend, in order to prove that the
idea of the Play is right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot
demand Laber and get it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he a
real sport? Would he stand being arested? Because that would cinch it."

But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. I
would not have him arested. And at last Carter gave in.

"But you get the Idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a Row, and
it's good for a half collumn on the first page of the evening papers.
Result, a jamb that night at the performence, and a new lease of life
for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruized and battered, and perhaps
with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the matter--it's a knock out. I'd
charge a thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it."

"Bruized!" I exclaimed. "Realy bruized or painted on?"

He glared at me impatiently.

"Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got
to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, for
instanse, to earn his Bread and Butter, he's not worth saving."

"Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked, in a faltering
tone.

He stopped and stared at me.

"I like that!" he said. "It's not my Play that's failing, is it? Go and
tell him the Skeme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him
who I am, and that I have a lot of Ideas, but this is the only one I'm
giving away."

We had arived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in.
But he only glansed bitterly at the Windows and observed that they had
taken in the mat with Welcome on it, as far as he was concerned. And
went away.

Although we have never had a mat with Welcome on it.

Dear Dairy, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and
kind-hearted, and it would be painfull to him. But to who else can I
turn in my extremity?

I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if
kindly treated will do anything. But if aproached in the wrong way, or
asked to do somthing against his principals, he becomes a Roaring Lion.

He would never be bully-ed into giving a Man work, even so touching a
Personallity as Adrian's.


LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford
and is in a terrable temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he
is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not
actualy fighting.

"He could probably run a bus, and releace some one who can fight," he
shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands.
Don't let me see him, that's all."

"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold
furey.

"Just keep him out of my sight," father snaped. "I supose I can't keep
him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies."

"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornfull maner. "While you help your bank
account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for Heaven's sake
don't put it on altruistic grounds."

She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her
lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to
tell him the Familey was out.

Were it not for our afections, and the necessity for getting married, so
there would be an increase in the Population, how happy we could all be!


LATER: I have seen father.

It was a painfull evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father
cuting the ends off cigars in a viscious maner. Mother was NON EST, and
had I not had my memories, it would have been a Sickning Time.

I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usualy does,
like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a
large chair, and except for an ocasional sneaze, was quiet.

Only once did my parent adress me in an hour, when he said:

"What the devil's making you sneaze so?"

"My noze, I think, sir," I said meekly.

"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small noze to be making such a racket."

I was cut to the heart, dear Dairy. One of my dearest dreams has always
been a delicate noze, slightly arched and long enough to be truly
aristocratic. Not realy acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little
noze--hate it--hate it--HATE IT.

"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To
taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly heredatary and partly
carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infansy it would have been a
good noze, and not a pug. And----"

"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your
noze. As a matter of fact, it's a good noze. It's exactly the sort of
noze you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman
noze?"

I have not been feeling very well, dear Dairy, and so I sudenly began to
weap.

"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't
tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!"

"Behind a noze," I said, feebly.

So he said he liked my noze, even although somwhat swolen, and he kissed
it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about
ready to be tackeled. So I observed:

"Father, will you do me a faver?"

"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Busness is pretty good now,
and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War
Department. I--supose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a
Secret between the to of us."

I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing
somthing for Adrian? A mere bagatelle.

"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?"

He remembered the name.

"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intencely.

"What sort of a favor?"

"Her couzin has written a play. She is very fond of her couzin, and
anxious to have him suceed. And it is a lovely play."

He held me off and stared at me.

"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You
incomprehensable child! Why didn't you tell your mother?"

"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought,
by buying a Box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's couzin's play
suceed. And as a result I was draged home, and shamefully treated in the
most mortafying maner. But I am acustomed to brutalaty."

"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I
won't finanse the play, but short of that I'll do what I can."

However he was not so agreable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He
delivered a firm no.

"Although," he said, "sombody ought to do it, and show the falasy of
the Play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a
living, unless he will hustel around and make it. In the second place
an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can
force Capitle to employ Labor."

"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and
Capitle is to dignafied to say anything, most people are going to side
with Labor."

He gazed at me.

"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true femanine
fashion."

"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for Work? He
intends to force you to employ him."

"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a feirce voice. "Well, let him
come. I can stand up for my Principals, to. I'll throw him out, all
right."

Dear Dairy, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true
it is that strategy will do more than violance!

We have aranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a
decayed Gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said
nothing about violance, leaving that to arange itself.

I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some
reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I
am to excited to sleep.

Feel horid. Forbiden to go out this morning.


JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had
a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his
Busness known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War
Department.

"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl
up."

"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Realy you must allow me I must
inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to
settle. Besides, it is a delacate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get
the Order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place
it with him."

"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat
anything for keeping your own Counsel!"

I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickning.

Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had
to sit through silver vegatable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and
plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vazes and a cabushon saphire
and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows
what. But at last she said:

"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!"

I closed my eyes.

"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?"

"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would
give him up, because of Familey objections?"

"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I
think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he
made love to that--that creature, I am posatively SHAKEN."

We sat in somber silence. Then she said:

"I darsay he detests the Heroine, doesn't he?"

"He tolarates her," I said, with a shrug.

More silense. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my
BOUDOIR.

"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone.

"Jane!"

"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old
thing."

I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the Adventuress was at
least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and
not at all femanine.

Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most madening way and
put her hand on my Forehead.

"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for to days," she said. "Your
head's hot. I think you need a musterd foot bath and to go to bed."

"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftyest fashion, "Miss Barbara is woried,
not ill. And please close the door when you go out."

Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her.

"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from
Miss Barbara."

And she went out, slaming the door.

"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertanence. Old servant or not, she ought
to have her mouth slaped."

Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had
a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose
hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out.

First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would
do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's
office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock.

"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a
flivver, you know."

"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a
thing, he does it."

"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell
your Actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see
the Policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get
him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers."

It was then that a terrable thought struck me. What if Adrian considered
it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he
prefered the failure of Miss Everett's couzin's play to a bruize on the
eye? What, in short, if he refused?

Dear Dairy, I was stupafied. I knew not which way to turn. For Men are
not like Women, who are dependible and anxious to get along, and will
sacrifise anything for Success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones
they love best, if the smallest Things do not suit them, such as cold
soup, or sleaves to long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they
have not been consulted about beforhand.

"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!"

"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did
ache, for that matter. It is acheing now, dear Dairy.

However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning
Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneeking, I
went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my SEANCE in
his room while he was changing his garments behind a screan, as it was
marked on a dressing case.

It was then five o'clock.

How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, dear Dairy,
to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while
people who guessed not the inner trepadation of my heart past and
repast, and glansed at me and at Leila's pink hat above.

At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he aproached, strideing
along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I!
I beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say.

"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky
today. Friday is my best day."

"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else.

"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you
say to a cup of tea in the restarant?"

How grown up and like a DEBUTANTE I felt, dear Dairy, going to have
tea as if I had it every day at School, with a handsome actor across!
Although somwhat uneasy also, owing to the posibility of the Familey
coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all
spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her
eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would invite her to come
in.

WHICH I DID NOT.

Dear Dairy, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked
astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing
busness, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be
reporters and so on, he became thoughtfull.

"It's realy incredably clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right
it ought to be a Stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have
it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is
it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing foney about it?"

"Foney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not."

He kept on leaning over the table.

"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the Play?"

Oh, Dairy, Dairy!

And just then I looked up, and the Adventuress was staring in the door
at me with the MEANEST look on her face.

I draw a Veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say
that he considers me exactly the tipe he finds most atractive, and that
he does not consider my noze to short. We had a long dispute about this.
He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an acquiline tipe. He says I am
romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somwhat reckless, and he
gave me good advice about doing what my Familey consider for my good, at
least until I come out.

But our talk was all to short, for a fat man with three rings on came
in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood
turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting
there in a drinking party.

And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the
manager about the arangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully"
and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was
mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awfull face
I ever saw!

I colapsed in my chair.

Dear Dairy, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And
dress up like a Gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope
I'm a Gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away.

And now, dear Dairy, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings
I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneaze. How
terrable a thing is Love.


LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not
home tonight and I cannot apeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking
to, and mother is having the vibrater used on her spine. If I felt
better I would run away.


JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrable.

Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his
card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from
his saying that he had come to ask for somthing, and so on, that it
was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford
refused to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The
Reporters got it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought
one in. It is headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and
the doctor is with her.


LATER: Adrian has disapeared. The manager has just called up, and with
shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little
after ten, and has not been seen since.

It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost
time now for the Matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do?


SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Dairy, I have the meazles. I am all broken out,
and look horible. But what is a sickness of the Body compared to the
agony of my Mind? Oh, dear Dairy, to think of what has happened since
last I saw your stainless Pages!

What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying
to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he decieved me,
he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight.

I have been given a sleeping medacine, and until it takes affect I shall
write out the tradgedy of this day, omiting nothing. The trained nurse
is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed.

I have tried it on, dear Dairy, and it is very becoming. If they insist
on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is
easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortible. But
at least a trained nurse leads her own Life and is not bully-ed by her
Familey. And more, she does good constantly.

I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and
perhaps go to the Front. I know a lot of college men in the American
Ambulence.

I shall never go on the stage, dear Dairy. I know now its decietfullness
and visisitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a
result of a theatricle Adonis. I am through with the theater forever.

I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disapeared.

Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my
mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that somthing had slipped, and
I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once
beloved name.)

While dressing I percieved that my chest and arms were covered
with small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I sliped
downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a
loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glansed in, and ye gods!

It was the Adventuress.

Drawing somwhat back, I listened. Oh, Dairy, what a revalation!

"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour
the performance begins, and--he cannot be found."

"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff maner. "What can my
daughter Barbara know about him?"

The Adventuress snifed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, all right. And
I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house."

"Certainly she is in the house," said mother.

"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to beleive she has
run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only
yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a Skeme,
he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last
night. He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing
further of your daughter's Skeme. But I know he went out to meet her. He
has not been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours."

"Just a moment," said mother, in a fridgid tone. "Am I to understand
that this--this Mr. Egleston is----"

"He is my Husband."

Ah, dear Dairy, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did
not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to
escape. Then I fled, like a Gilty Soul. It was gastly.

On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my
face, and then cluched me by the arm.

"Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your
complexion?"

But I was desparate.

"Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go.
Somthing horible has happened."

She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the
street, followed by her peircing gaze.

Although realizing that my Life, at least the part of it pertaining to
sentament, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him.
I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined
Miss Everett's couzin's play. Luckaly I got a taxi at the corner, and
I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot
persparation, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty
five minutes until the curtain went up.

I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I
doubted my own father, who can be very feirce on ocasion. What if,
madened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being aproached by
Adrian, been driven to violance? What if, in my endeaver to help one who
was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime?