CHAPTER IV--A CHAT ON THE LINKS
At the top of the hill, instead of following the winding road, Bobstarted leisurely across the rolling green toward the big house whoseroof could be discerned in the distance above the trees. The day wascharming, but he was distinctly out of tune. There was a frown on hisbrow. Fate had gone too far. He half-clenched his fists, for he was in afighting mood and wanted to retaliate--but how? At the edge of somebushes he came upon a lady--no less a personage than the better-half ofthe commodore, himself.
She was fair, fat and forty, or a little more. She was fooling with awhite ball, or rather it was fooling with her, for she didn't seem tolike the place where it lay. She surveyed it from this side and thenfrom that. To the casual observer it looked just the same from whicheverpoint you viewed it. Once or twice the lady, evidently no expert, raisedher arm and then lowered it. But apparently, at last, she made up hermind. She was just about to hit the little ball, though whether to topor slice it will never be known, when Bob stepped up from behind thebushes.
"Oh, Mr. Bennett!" He had obviously startled her.
"The same," said Bob gloomily.
"That's too bad of you," she chided him, stepping back.
"What?"
"Why, I'd just got it all figured out in my mind how to do it."
"Sorry," said Bob. "I didn't know you were behind the bushes or Iwouldn't have come out on you like that. But maybe you'll do even betterthan you were going to. Hope so! Go ahead with your drive. Don't mindme." His tone was depressed, if not sepulchral.
But the lady, being at that sociable age, showed now a perversedisposition not to "go ahead."
"Just get here?" she asked.
"Yes. Anything doing?"
"Not much. It's been, in fact, rather slow. Mrs. Ralston says soherself. So I am at liberty to make the same remark. Of course we'vedone the usual things, but somehow there seems to be something lacking,"rattled on the lady. "Maybe we need a few more convivial souls to stirthings up. Perhaps we're waiting for some one, real good and lively, toappear upon the scene. Does the description chance to fit you, Mr.Bennett?" Archly.
"I think not," said gloomy Bob.
"Well, that isn't what Mrs. Ralston says about you, anyway," observedthe commodore's spouse.
"What does she say?"
"'When Bob Bennett's around, things begin to hum.' So you see you have areputation to live up to."
"I dare say. No doubt I'll live up to it, all right."
"It's really up to you to stir things up."
"I've begun." Ominously.
"Have you? How lovely!"
This didn't require an answer, for it wasn't really a question. A whiteball went by them, a very pretty snoop, and pretty soon another lady anda caddy loomed on their range of vision. The lady was thin andspirituelle and she walked by with a stride. You would have said she hadtaken lessons of a man. She looked neither to the right nor the left. Atthe moment, she, at any rate, was not sociably inclined. That walk meantbusiness. She wasn't one of those fussy beginners like the lady Bob wastalking with.
"Isn't that Mrs. Clarence Van Duzen?" asked Bob.
"Yes. She, too, poor dear, has had to desert hubby. Exactions ofbusiness! Clarence simply couldn't get away. You see he's director of somany 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 wasn'tpressed for business and Bob couldn't utter even the suspicion of anuntruth now. "Didn't 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 didn't happen to see Dan?" she asked.
"Yes."
"At his office, I suppose?" Dan had written he hadn't even had time forhis 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 hadn't really believed quite allDan had written about that office confinement. "How dreadfullyambiguous!" With a laugh. "What other places?"
Bob began to get uneasy. "Well, we went to a cabaret or two." Noespecial harm about that answer.
"Of course," said the lady. "Why not?"
Bob felt relieved. He didn't want to make trouble. He was too miserablehimself. He trusted that would end the talk and now regarded theneglected ball suggestively.
"And then you went to still some other places?" went on the lady in thatsame light, unoffended tone.
"Ye-es," Bob had to admit.
"One of those roof gardens, perhaps, where they have entertainments?"she suggested brightly.
Bob acknowledged they had gone to a roof garden. And again, and moresuggestively, he eyed the little white ball. But Mrs. Dan seemed to haveforgotten all about it.
"Roof gardens," she said. "I adore roof gardens. They _are_ such a boonto the people. I told dear Dan to be sure not to miss them. So nice tothink of him enjoying himself instead of moping away in a stuffy oldoffice."
Bob gazed at her suspiciously. But she had such an open face! One ofthose faces one can't help trusting. Mrs. Dan was just the homely, plainold-fashioned type. At least, so she seemed. Anyhow, it didn't muchmatter so far as Bob was concerned. He had to tell the truth. He hadn'tsought this conversation. It was forced on him. He was only going the"even tenor of his way." He was, however, rather pleased that Mrs. Dandid seem in some respects different from others of her sex. Bob didn't,of course, really know much about the sex.
"So you went to the roof garden--just you and Dan," purred Mrs. Dan.
Bob didn't answer. He hoped she hadn't really put that as a question.
"Or _were_ you and Dan alone?" She made it a question now.
"No-a."
"Who else were along?"
"Dickie--"
"And--?"
"Clarence."
She gazed toward Mrs. Clarence, while a shade of anxiety appeared onBob's face. In the distance Mrs. Clarence had paused to contemplate theresult of an unusually satisfactory display of skill. Mrs. Dan nextglanced sidewise at her caddy, but that young man seemed to haverelapsed into a condition of innocuous vacancy. He looked capable offalling asleep standing. Certainly he wasn't trying to overhear.
"Just you four men!" Mrs. Dan resumed her purring. "Or were you allalone? No ladies along?"
While expecting, of course, the negative direct, she was studying Boband gleaning what she could, surreptitiously, or by inference. He had aneloquent face which might tell her something his lips refused to reveal.His answer almost took her breath away.
"Ye-es."
He was sorry, but he had to say it. No way out of it! Mrs. Dan's jawfell. What she might have said can only be conjectured, for at thismoment, luckily for Bob, there came an interruption.
"Tete-a-teting, instead of teeing!" broke in a jocular voice. Thespeaker wore ecclesiastical garments; his imposing calves were encasedin episcopal gaiters. Mrs. Ralston always liked to dignify herhouse-parties with a religious touch, and this particular bishop wasvery popular with her. Bob inwardly blessed the good man for hisopportune appearance. He was a ponderous wag.
"Forgive interruption," he went on, just as if Mrs. Dan who wasnon-amatory had been engaged in a furious flirtation. "I'll be hurryingon."
"Do," said Mrs. Dan, matching his tone, and concealing any inwardexasperation that she might have felt.
"It's I who will be hurrying on," interposed Bob quickly. "You see, I'mexpected to arrive at the house," he laughed.
"Looked as if you were having an interesting conversation," persistedthe bishop waggishly.
"And so we were," assented Mrs. Dan. She could have stamped withvexation, but instead, she forced a smile. The dear tiresome bishop hadto be borne.
"Confess you find me de trop?" he went on, shaking a finger at Bob.
"On the contrary," said Bob.
"Has to say that," laughed the good man. He did love to poke fun (orwhat he conceived "fun") at "fair, fat and forty." "I suppose you werepositively dee-lighted to be interrupted?"
"I was," returned Bob truthfully.
"Ha! ha!" laughed the bishop.
Bob looked at him. The bishop thought he was joking, just as the hackmanhad. Of course, no one could say such a thing as that seriously and inthe presence of the lady herself. People always didn't believe truthwhen they heard it. They thought telling the truth a form of crudehumor, and a spark of hope-a very small one--shot through Bob's brain.Perhaps they would continue to look upon him in the light of a joker. Hewould be the little joker in the pack of cards and he might yet pull offthat "three weeks" without pulling down the house. Only--would MissGerald look upon him as a joker? Intuition promptly told him she wouldnot. His thoughts reverted to that last meeting. Think of having toldher he didn't want--His offense grew more awful unto himself everymoment. He ceased to remember Mrs. Dan, and saying something, he hardlyknew what, Bob walked on.
Miss Gwendoline Gerald was on the big veranda when he reached the house.He would have thanked her humbly and with immense contrition for havingtransferred his bag and clubs hither, but as he went by, that gracious,stately young lady seemed not to see him. It was as if he had suddenlybecome invisible. Her face didn't even change; the proud contourexpressed neither contempt nor disdain; the perfectly formed lips didn'ttake a more pronounced curve or grow hard.
Bob felt himself shrink. He was like that man in the story book whobecomes invisible at times. The fiction man, however, attained thisconvenient consummation through his own volition. Bob didn't. She wasthe magician and he wasn't even a joker.
He managed to reach the front door without stumbling. A wild desire toattract her attention by asking her if his luggage _had_ arrived safely,he dismissed quickly. It wouldn't do at all. It might imply a fear shehad dumped it out, en route. And if she hadn't, such an inquiry wouldonly emphasize the fact that she had acted as expressman--or woman--andfor him!
He would go to his room at once, he told the footman. He didn't mind afew moments' solitude. If so much could happen before his house-partyhad begun--before he even got into the house--what might he not expectlater? In one of the upper halls he encountered the man with themonocle.
"I say!" said this person. "What a jolly coincidence!"
"Think so?" said Bob. He didn't find anything "jolly" about it. Onanother occasion, he might have noticed that the eye behind the"window-pane" was rather twinkling, but his perceptions were notparticularly keen at the present time.
In the room to which he had been assigned, Bob cast off a few garments.Then he stopped with his shirt partly off. He wondered how Miss Geraldwould look the next time he saw her? Like a frozen Hebe, perhaps! Bobremoved the shirt and cast it viciously somewhere. Then he selectedanother shirt--the first that came along, for why should he exercisecare to select? It matters little what an invisible man wears. _She_wouldn't see the extra stripe or the bigger dot. Stripes couldn't rescuehim from insubstantiability. Colors, too, would make no difference.Pea-green, yellow, or lavender--it was all one. Any old shirt would do.And any old tie!
When he had finished dressing, he didn't find any further excuse forremaining in his room. He couldn't consult his desires as to that. Hewasn't asked there to be a hermit. He couldn't imitate Timon of Athens,Diogenes or any other of those wise old fellows who did the glorioussolitude act. Diogenes told the truth, mostly, but he could live in atub. He didn't have to participate in house-parties. Whoever inventedhouse-parties, anyhow? They were such uncomfortable "social functions"they must have been invented by the English. Why do people want to gettogether? Bob could sympathize with Diogenes. Also, he could envy Timonhis howling wilderness! But personally he couldn't even be a RobinsonCrusoe. Would there were no other company than clawless crabs and a goatand a parrot! He would not be afraid to tell _them_ the truth.
He had to go down and he did. Nemesis lurked for him below. Had Bobrealized what was going to happen he would have skipped back to hisroom. But, as it was, he assumed a bold front. He even said to himself,"Cheer up; the worst is yet to come." It was.