Bab: A Sub Deb

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


Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON.


On driving madly into the mill yard, I sudenly remembered that it was
Saturday and a half holaday. The mill was going, but the offices were
closed. Father, then, was imured in the safety of his Club, and could
not be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninty
cents.

I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very
thirsty, so I went to the hydrent in the yard and got a drink of water.
I did not as yet suspect meazles, but laid it all to my agony of mind.

Haveing thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard
Policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of
the time, and the Familey is not expected to visit the mill, because of
dirt and possable accidents.

I aproached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me.

"Officer" I said, in my most dignafied tones. "I am looking for a--for a
Gentleman who came here this morning to look for work."

"There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said.
"Which one would it be, now?"

How my heart sank!

"About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of
mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But
perhaps I'll remember him."

But, although Adrian is of an unusual tipe, I felt that I could not
describe him, besides having a terrable headache. So I asked if he would
lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look.

"You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay
to converce, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no
Adrian.

I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the
wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office
like a furey.

"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden
him?"

"Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid maner. "He is at his hotel, I
beleive, putting beefstake on a bad eye. Beleive me, Bab----"

"Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wrechedness. "What is he to me? Or
his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain
to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no
performence."

"Look here," Carter said sudenly, "you look awfuly queer, Bab. Your
face----"

I stamped my foot.

"What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I
have ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be
sent to Switzerland with that on my Soul?"

"Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that,
are they? I--I don't want you so far away."

Dear Dairy, I am unsuspisious by nature, beleiving all mankind to be my
friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter
Brooks' eyes as they turned on me.

"Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You
WISH to ruin him."

I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away.

"Look here," he said. "I'll tell you somthing, but please keep back.
Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning.
I do not know anything about your Actor-friend. He's probably only
been run over or somthing. But I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I
sugested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in.
It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask
your father for somthing, and your father blew up by saying that he knew
about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would
hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did
not want.

"And in to minutes Beresford hit him, and got a responce. It was a
Million dollars worth."

So he babbled on. But what were his words to me?

Dear Dairy, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although
fatle to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only
Adrian's possable tradgic fate. Sudenly I colapsed, and asked for a
drink of water, feeling horible, very wobbley and unable to keep my
knees from bending.

And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's
fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge
to bring out the rest of the rash, folowed by a sleep--it being meazles
and not smallpox.

Oh, dear Dairy, what a story I learned when haveing wakened and feeling
better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not
being allowed in.

Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, haveing thrown Beresford out
and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM
A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape,
which he atempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked
in, because of spies. The plant is under Milatary Guard.

AND THERE HE HAD BEEN COMPELED TO DRAG A WHEELBARROW BACK AND FORTH,
CONTAINING CHARCOAL FOR A SMALL FURNASE, FOR HOURS!

Even when Carter found him he could not be releaced, as father was in
hiding from Reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers.

HE LABORED UNTIL TEN P. M., while the theater remained dark, and people
got their money back.

I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's couzin.

* * * * *

The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospitle. My career is
ended, my Life is blasted.

I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today
I have ruined, compeling him to do manual labor for hours, although
unacustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I beleive has a future. But
my love for him is dead. Dear Dairy, he decieved me, and that is one
thing I cannot forgive.

So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I
reflect about many Things. But one speach rings in my ears over and
over.

Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange
maner, looking at me with inscrutible eyes.

"Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away."

WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT?

* * * * *

Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I darsay. Perhaps it is as well.
I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t----




CHAPTER IV

BAB'S BURGLAR

"MONEY is the root of all Evil."

I do not know who said the above famous words, but they are true. I know
it but to well. For had I never gone on an Allowence, and been in debt
and always worried about the way silk stockings wear out, et cetera, I
would be having a much better time. For who can realy enjoy a dress when
it is not paid for or only partialy so?

I have decided to write out this story, which is true in every
particuler, except here and there the exact words of conversation, and
then sell it to a Magazine. I intend to do this for to reasons. First,
because I am in Debt, especialy for to tires, and second, because
parents will then read it, and learn that it is not possable to make a
good appearence, including furs, theater tickets and underwear, for a
Thousand Dollars a year, even if one wears plain uncouth things beneath.
I think this, too. My mother does not know how much clothes and other
things, such as manacuring, cost these days. She merely charges things
and my father gets the bills. Nor do I consider it fair to expect me
to atend Social Functions and present a good appearence on a small
Allowence, when I would often prefer a simple game of tennis or to lie
in a hammick, or to converce with some one I am interested in, of the
Other Sex.

It was mother who said a Thousand dollars a year and no extras. But I
must confess that to me, after ten dollars a month at school, it seemed
a large sum. I had but just returned for the summer holadays, and the
Familey was having a counsel about me. They always have a counsel when I
come home, and mother makes a list, begining with the Dentist.

"I should make it a Thousand," she said to father. "The child is in
shameful condition. She is never still, and she fidgits right through
her clothes."

"Very well," said father, and got his Check Book. "That is $83.33 1/3
cents a month. Make it thirty four cents. But no bills, Barbara."

"And no extras," my mother observed, in a stern tone.

"Candy, tennis balls and matinee tickets?" I asked.

"All included," said father. "And Church collection also, and ice cream
and taxicabs and Xmas gifts."

Although pretending to consider it small, I realy felt that it was a
large amount, and I was filled with joy when father ordered a Check Book
for me with my name on each Check. Ah, me! How happy I was!

I was two months younger then and possably childish in some ways. For I
remember that in my exhiliration I called up Jane Raleigh the moment she
got home. She came over, and I showed her the book.

"Bab!" she said. "A thousand dollars! Why, it is wealth."

"It's not princly," I observed. "But it will do, Jane."

We then went out and took a walk, and I treated her to a Facial Masage,
having one myself at the same time, having never been able to aford it
before.

"It's Heavenley, Bab," Jane observed to me, through a hot towle. "If I
were you I should have one daily. Because after all, what are features
if the skin is poor?"

We also had manacures, and as the young person was very nice, I gave her
a dollar. As I remarked to Jane, it had taken all the lines out of my
face, due to the Spring Term and examinations. And as I put on my hat,
I could see that it had done somthing else. For the first time my face
showed Character. I looked mature, if not, indeed, even more.

I paid by a Check, although they did not care about taking it, prefering
cash. But on calling up the Bank accepted it, and also another check for
cold cream, and a fancy comb.

I had, as I have stated, just returned from my Institution of Learning,
and now, as Jane and I proceded to a tea place I had often viewed with
hungry eyes but no money to spend, it being expencive, I suddenly said:

"Jane, do you ever think how ungrateful we are to those who cherish us
through the school year and who, although stern at times, are realy our
Best Friends?"

"Cherish us!" said Jane. "I haven't noticed any cherishing. They
tolarate me, and hardly that."

"I fear you are pessamistic," I said, reproving her but mildly, for
Jane's school is well known to be harsh and uncompromizing. "However,
my own feelings to my Instructers are diferent and quite friendly,
especialy at a distance. I shall send them flowers."

It was rather awful, however, after I had got inside the shop, to find
that violets, which I had set my heart on as being the school flour,
were five dollars a hundred. Also there were more teachers than I had
considered, some of them making but small impression on account of
mildness.

THERE WERE EIGHT.

"Jane!" I said, in desparation. "Eight without the housekeeper! And she
must be remembered because if not she will be most unpleasant next fall,
and swipe my chaffing dish. Forty five dollars is a lot of Money."

"You only have to do it once," said Jane, who could aford to be calm, as
it was costing her nothing.

However, I sent the violets and paid with a check. I felt better by
subtracting the amount from one thousand. I had still $945.00, less the
facials and so on, which had been ten.

This is not a finantial story, although turning on Money. I do not
wish to be considered as thinking only of Wealth. Indeed, I have always
considered that where my heart was in question I would always decide for
Love and penury rather than a Castle and greed. In this I differ from
my sister Leila, who says that under no circumstanses would she ever
inspect a refrigerater to see if the cook was wasting anything.

I was not worried about the violets, as I consider Money spent as
but water over a damn, and no use worrying about. But I was no longer
hungry, and I observed this to Jane.

"Oh, come on," she said, in an impatient maner. "I'll pay for it."

I can read Jane's inmost thoughts, and I read them then. She considered
that I had cold feet financially, although with almost $945.00 in the
bank. Therefore I said at once:

"Don't be silly. It is my party. And we'll take some candy home."

However, I need not have worried, for we met Tommy Gray in the tea shop,
and he paid for everything.

I pause here to reflect. How strange to look back, and think of all
that has since hapened, and that I then considered that Tommy Gray was
interested in Jane and never gave me a thought. Also that I considered
that the look he gave me now and then was but a friendly glanse! Is it
not strange that Romanse comes thus into our lives, through the medium
of a tea-cup, or an eclair, unheralded and unsung, yet leaving us never
the same again?

Even when Tommy bought us candy and carried mine under his arm while
leaving Jane to get her own from the counter, I suspected nothing. But
when he said to me, "Gee, Bab, you're geting to be a regular Person,"
and made no such remark to Jane, I felt that it was rather pointed.

Also, on walking up the Avenue, he certainly walked nearer me than Jane.
I beleive she felt it, to, for she made a sharp speach or to about his
Youth, and what he meant to do when he got big. And he replied by saying
that she was big enough allready, which hurt because Jane is plump and
will eat starches anyhow.

Tommy Gray had improved a great deal since Xmas. He had at that time
apeared to long for his head. I said this to Jane, SOTO VOCE, while he
was looking at some neckties in a window.

"Well, his head is big enough now," she said in a snapish maner. "It
isn't very long, Bab, since you considered him a mere Child."

"He is twenty," I asserted, being one to stand up for my friends under
any and all circumstanses.

Jane snifed.

"Twenty!" she exclaimed. "He's not eighteen yet. His very noze is
imature."

Our discourse was interupted by the object of it, who requested an
opinion on the ties. He ignored Jane entirely.

We went in, and I purchaced a handsome tie for father, considering it
but right thus to show my apreciation of his giving me the Allowence.

It was seventy five cents, and I made out a check for the amount and
took the tie with me. We left Jane soon after, as she insisted on
adressing Tommy as dear child, or "MON ENFANT," and strolled on
together, oblivious to the World, by the World forgot. Our conversation
was largely about ourselves, Tommv maintaining that I gave an impression
of fridgidity, and that all the College men considered me so.

"Better fridgidity," I retorted, "than softness. But I am sincere. I
stick to my friends through thick and thin."

Here he observed that my Chin was romantic, but that my Ears were
stingy, being small and close to my head. This irratated me, although
glad they are small. So I bought him a gardenia to wear from a
flour-seller, but as the flour-seller refused a check, he had to pay for
it.

In exchange he gave me his Frat pin to wear.

"You know what that means, don't you, Bab?" he said, in a low and
thriling tone. "It means, if you wear it, that you are my--well, you're
my girl."

Although thriled, I still retained my practacality.

"Not exclusively, Tom," I said, in a firm tone. "We are both young, and
know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet."

He looked at me with a searching glanse.

"I'll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying around, Bab," he
said savigely. "You're that sort. All the fellows are sure to be crasy
about you. And I don't intend to be an Also-ran."

"Perhaps," I observed, in my most dignafied maner. "But no one has ever
tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the Other Sex have always
treated me with respect."

I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on the pavment.
It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start right.

But I was troubled and DISTRAIT during dinner, which consisted of mutton
and custard, which have no appeal for me owing to having them to often
at school. For I had, although not telling an untruth, allowed Tom to
think that I had a dozen or so Frat pins, although I had none at all.

Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman can do when
in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with Gile? In other words,
to use her intellagence against brute force? I fear so.

Men do not expect truth from us, so why disapoint them?

During the salid mother inquired what I had done during the afternoon.

"I made a few purchaces," I said.

"I hope you bought some stockings and underclothes," she observed.
"Hannah cannot mend your chemises any more, and as for your----"

"Mother!" I said, turning scarlet, for George--who was the Butler, as
Tanney had been found kissing Jane--was at that moment bringing in the
cheeze.

"I am not going to interfere with your Allowence," she went on. "But I
recall very distinctly that during Leila's first year she came home with
three evening wraps and one nightgown, having to borrow from one of
her schoolmates, while that was being washed. I feel that you should at
least be warned."

How could I then state that instead of bying nightgowns, et cetera,
I had been sending violets? I could not. If Life to my Familey was a
matter of petticoats, and to me was a matter of fragrant flours, why
cause them to suffer by pointing out the diference?

I did not feel superior. Only diferent.

That evening, while mother and Leila were out at a Festivaty, I gave
father his neck-tie. He was overcome with joy and for a moment could not
speak. Then he said:

"Good gracious, Bab! What a--what a DIFERENT necktie."

I explained my reasons for buying it for him, and also Tom Gray's
objecting to it as to juvenile.

"Young impudense!" said father, refering to Tom. "I darsay I am quite an
old fellow to him. Tie it for me, Bab."

"Though old of body, you are young in mentalaty," I said. But he only
laughed, and then asked about the pin, which I wore over my heart.

"Where did you get that?" he asked in quite a feirce voice.

I told him, but not quite all. It was the first time I had concealed an
AMOUR from my parents, having indeed had but few, and I felt wicked
and clandestine. But, alas, it is the way of the heart to conceal its
deepest feelings, save for blushes, which are beyond bodily control.

My father, however, mearly sighed and observed:

"So it has come at last!"

"What has come at last?" I asked, but feeling that he meant Love. For
although forty-two and not what he once was, he still remembers his
Youth.

But he refused to anser, and inquired politely if I felt to much
grown-up, with the Allowence and so on, to be held on knees and
occasionaly tickeled, as in other days.

Which I did not.

That night I stood at the window of my Chamber and gazed with a heaving
heart at the Gray residense, which is next door. Often before I had
gazed at its walls, and considered them but brick and morter, and
needing paint. Now my emotions were diferent. I realized that a House is
but a shell, covering and protecting its precious contents from weather
and curious eyes, et cetera.

As I stood there, I percieved a light in an upper window, where
the nursery had once been in which Tom--in those days when a child,
Tommy--and I had played as children, he frequently pulling my hair and
never thinking of what was to be. As I gazed, I saw a figure come to the
window and gaze fixedly at me. IT WAS HE.

Hannah was in my room, making a list of six of everything which I
needed, so I dared not call out. But we exchanged gestures of afection
and trust across the void, and with a beating heart I retired to bed.

Before I slept, however, I put to myself this question, but found no
anser to it. How can it be that two people of Diferent Sexes can know
each other well, such as calling by first names and dancing together at
dancing school, and going to the same dentist, and so on, and have no
interest in each other except to have a partner at parties or make up a
set at tennis? And then nothing happens, but there is a diference, and
they are always hoping to meet on the street or elsewhere, and although
quareling sometimes when together, are not happy when apart! How strange
is Life!

Hannah staid in my room that evening, fussing about my not hanging up my
garments when undressing. As she has lived with us for a long time, and
used to take me for walks when Mademoiselle had the toothache, which was
often, because she hated to walk, she knows most of the Familey affairs,
and is sometimes a nusance.

So, while I said my prayers, she looked in my Check Book. I was furious,
and snached it from her, but she had allready seen to much.

"Humph!" she said. "Well, all I've got to say is this, Miss Bab. You'll
last just twenty days at the rate you are going, and will have to go
stark naked all year."

At this indelacate speach I ordered her out of the room, but she only
tucked the covers in and asked me if I had brushed my teeth.

"You know," she said, "that you'll be coming to me for money when you
run out, Miss Bab, as you've always done, and expecting me to patch and
mend and make over your old things, when I've got my hands full anyhow.
And you with a Fortune fritered away."

"I wish to think, Hannah," I said in a plaintive tone. "Please go away."

But she came and stood over me.

"Now you're going to be a good girl this Summer and not give any
trouble, aren't you?" she asked. "Because we're upset enough as it is,
and your poor mother most distracted, without you're cutting loose as
usual and driving everybody crazy."

I sat up in bed, forgetful that the window was now open for the night,
and that I was visable from the Gray's in my ROBE DE NUIT.

"Whose distracted about what?" I asked.

But Hannah would say no more, and left me a pray to doubt and fear.

Alas, Hannah was right. There was something wrong in the house. Coming
home as I had done, full of the joy of no rising bell or French grammar,
or meat pie on Mondays from Sunday's roast, I had noticed nothing.

I fear I am one who lives for the Day only, and as such I beleive that
when people smile they are happy, forgetfull that to often a smile
conceals an aching and tempestuous Void within.

Now I was to learn that the demon Strife had entered my domacile, there
to make his--or her--home. I do not agree with that poet, A. J. Ryan,
date forgoten, who observed:

Better a day of strife
Than a Century of sleep.

Although naturaly no one wishes to sleep for a Century, or even
approxamately.

There was Strife in the house. The first way I noticed it, aside from
Hannah's anonamous remark, was by observing that Leila was mopeing. She
acted very strangely, giving me a pair of pink hoze without more than a
hint on my part, and not sending me out of the room when Carter Brooks
came in to tea the next day.

I had staid at home, fearing that if I went out I should purchace some
CREPE DE CHENE combinations I had been craving in a window, and besides
thinking it possable that Tom would drop in to renew our relations of
yesterday, not remembering that there was a Ball Game.

Mother having gone out to the Country Club, I put my hair on top of my
head, thus looking as adult as possable. Taking a new detective story of
Jane's under my arm, I descended the staircase to the library.

Sis was there, curled up in a chair, knitting for the soldiers. Having
forgoten the Ball Game, as I have stated, I asked her, in case I had a
caller, to go away, which, considering she has the house to herself all
winter, I considered not to much.

"A caller!" she said. "Since when have you been allowed to have
callers?"

I looked at her steadily.

"I am young," I observed, "and still in the school room, Leila. I admit
it, so don't argue. But as I have not taken the veil, and as this is
not a Penitentary, I darsav I can see my friends now and anon, especialy
when they live next door."

"Oh!" she said. "It's the Gray infant, is it!"

This remark being purely spiteful, I ignored it and sat down to my book,
which concerned the stealing of some famous Emerelds, the heroine being
a girl detective who could shoot the cork out of a bottle at a great
distance, and whose name was Barbara!

It was for that reason Jane had loaned me the book.

I had reached the place where the Duchess wore the Emerelds to a ball,
above white satin and lillies, the girl detective being dressed as a man
and driving her there, because the Duchess had been warned and hautily
refused to wear the paste copies she had--when Sis said, peavishly:

"Why don't you knit or do somthing useful, Bab?"

I do not mind being picked on by my parents or teachers, knowing it is
for my own good. But I draw the line at Leila. So I replied:

"Knit! If that's the scarf you were on at Christmas, and it looks like
it, because there's the crooked place you wouldn't fix, let me tell you
that since then I have made three socks, heals and all, and they are
probably now on the feet of the Allies."

"Three!" she said. "Why THREE?"

"I had no more wool, and there are plenty of one-leged men anyhow."

I would fane have returned to my book, dreaming between lines, as it
were, of the Romanse which had come into my life the day before. It is,
I have learned, much more interesting to read a book when one has, or
is, experiencing the Tender Passion at the time. For during the love
seens one can then fancy that the impasioned speaches are being made to
oneself, by the object of one's afection. In short, one becomes, even if
but a time, the Heroine.