Isham Frederic Stewart - Nothing But the Truth стр 7.

But Im not tired, said Bob.

Headachey, then?

No. He wasnt quite following the subtleties of her remarks.

Then why are you walking? she persisted. And with that? Touching his grip with the tip of her toe.

Save hack fare, answered Bob.

She smiled.

Man wanted a dollar and a half, he went on.

And you objected? Lightly.

I did.

Again she smiled. Bob saw she, too, thought it was a joke. And he remembered how she knew of one or two occasions when he had just thrown money to the winds shoved it out of the window, as it were orchids, by the dozens, tips, two or three times too large, etc. Bob, with those reckless eyes, object to a dollar and a half or a hundred and fifty, for that matter? Not he! If ever there had been a spendthrift!

Well, Ill lend a hand to a poor, poverty-stricken wretch, said Miss Gerald, indulgently entering into the humor of the situation.

What do you mean? With new misgivings.

Put them indicating the grip and the sticks in the trap, she commanded.

Bob did. He couldnt do anything else. And then he assisted her in.

Thanks for timely help! he said more blithely, as he saw her slip on her gloves and begin to gather up the reins with those firm capable fingers. And now ? He started as if to go.

Oh, you can get in, too. Why shouldnt he? There was room for two. She spoke in a matter-of-fact manner.

I ? Bob hesitated. A long, long drive unbounded opportunity for chats, confidences!  and all at the beginning of his sojourn here? Dads words that horrid advice burned on his brain like fire. He tried to think of some excuse for not getting in. He might say he had to stop at a drug store, or call up a man in New York on business by telephone, or But no! he couldnt say any of those things. He was denied the blissful privilege of other men.

Well, why dont you get in? Miss Gerald spoke more sharply. Dont you want to?

The words came like a thunder-clap, though Miss Gwendolines voice was honey sweet. Bob raised a tragic head. That monster, Truth!

No, he said.

An instant Miss Gwendoline looked at him, the violet eyes incredulous, amused. Then a slight line appeared on her beautiful forehead and her red lips parted a little as if she were going to say something, but didnt. Instead, they closed tight, the way rosebuds shut when the night is unusually frosty. Her eyes became hard like diamonds.

How charmingly frank! she said. Then she drew up the reins and trailed the tip of the whip caressingly along the back of her spirited cob. It sprang forward. Look out for the sun, Mr. Bennett, she called back as they dashed away. Its rather hot to-day.

Bob stood and stared after her. What did she mean about the sun? Did she think he had a touch of sunstroke, or brain-fever? It was an inauspicious beginning, indeed. If he had only known what next was coming!

CHAPTER IV A CHAT ON THE LINKS

At the top of the hill, instead of following the winding road, Bob started leisurely across the rolling green toward the big house whose roof could be discerned in the distance above the trees. The day was charming, but he was distinctly out of tune. There was a frown on his brow. Fate had gone too far. He half-clenched his fists, for he was in a fighting mood and wanted to retaliate but how? At the edge of some bushes he came upon a lady no less a personage than the better-half of the commodore, himself.

She was fair, fat and forty, or a little more. She was fooling with a white ball, or rather it was fooling with her, for she didnt seem to like the place where it lay. She surveyed it from this side and then from that. To the casual observer it looked just the same from whichever point you viewed it. Once or twice the lady, evidently no expert, raised her arm and then lowered it. But apparently, at last, she made up her mind. She was just about to hit the little ball, though whether to top or slice it will never be known, when Bob stepped up from behind the bushes.

Oh, Mr. Bennett! He had obviously startled her.

The same, said Bob gloomily.

Thats too bad of you, she chided him, stepping back.

What?

Why, Id just got it all figured out in my mind how to do it.

Sorry, said Bob. I didnt know you were behind the bushes or I wouldnt have come out on you like that. But maybe youll do even better than you were going to. Hope so! Go ahead with your drive. Dont mind me. His tone was depressed, if not sepulchral.

But the lady, being at that sociable age, showed now a perverse disposition not to go ahead.

Just get here? she asked.

Yes. Anything doing?

Not much. Its been, in fact, rather slow. Mrs. Ralston says so herself. So I am at liberty to make the same remark. Of course weve done the usual things, but somehow there seems to be something lacking, rattled on the lady. Maybe we need a few more convivial souls to stir things up. Perhaps were waiting for some one, real good and lively, to appear upon the scene. Does the description chance to fit you, Mr. Bennett? Archly.

I think not, said gloomy Bob.

Well, that isnt what Mrs. Ralston says about you, anyway, observed the commodores spouse.

What does she say?

When Bob Bennetts around, things begin to hum. So you see you have a reputation to live up to.

I dare say. No doubt Ill live up to it, all right.

Its really up to you to stir things up.

Ive begun. Ominously.

Have you? How lovely!

This didnt require an answer, for it wasnt really a question. A white ball went by them, a very pretty snoop, and pretty soon another lady and a caddy loomed on their range of vision. The lady was thin and spirituelle and she walked by with a stride. You would have said she had taken lessons of a man. She looked neither to the right nor the left. At the moment, she, at any rate, was not sociably inclined. That walk meant business. She wasnt one of those fussy beginners like the lady Bob was talking with.

Isnt that Mrs. Clarence Van Duzen? asked Bob.

Yes. She, too, poor dear, has had to desert hubby. Exactions of business! Clarence simply couldnt get away. You see hes director of so many things. And poor, dear old Dan! So busy! Every day at the office! So pressed with business.

Quite so, said Bob absently. I mean He stopped. He knew Dan wasnt pressed for business and Bob couldnt utter even the suspicion of an untruth now. Didnt exactly mean that! he mumbled.

The lady regarded him quickly. His manner was just in the least strange. But in a moment she thought no more about it.

You didnt happen to see Dan? she asked.

Yes.

At his office, I suppose? Dan had written he hadnt even had time for his club; that it had been just work work all the time.

No.

Where, then?

At the club and some other places. Reluctantly.

Other places? Lightly. Of course she hadnt really believed quite all Dan had written about that office confinement. How dreadfully ambiguous! With a laugh. What other places?

Bob began to get uneasy. Well, we went to a cabaret or two. No especial harm about that answer.

Of course, said the lady. Why not?

Bob felt relieved. He didnt want to make trouble. He was too miserable himself. He trusted that would end the talk and now regarded the neglected ball suggestively.