CHAPTER VI--DINNER
Mrs. Dan dallied with Bob, displaying all the artifices of an oldcampaigner. Of course, she had no idea how easy it might be for her tolearn all she wanted to. She could not know he was like a barrel orpuncheon of information and that all she had to do was to pull the plugand let information flow out. She regarded Bob more in the light of asafety vault; the bishop's interruption had put him on his guard and shewould have to get through those massive outer-doors of his reserve,before she could force the many smaller doors to various boxes full ofstartling facts.
It was a fine tableful of people, of which they were a part. Wealth,beauty, brains and brawn were all there. An orchestra played somewhere.Being paid performers you didn't see them and as distance lendsenchantment to music, on most occasions, the result was admirable.Delicate orchids everywhere charmed with their hues without exuding thattoo obtrusive perfume of commoner flowers. Mrs. Ralston was an orchidenthusiast and down on the Amazon she kept an orchid-hunter who,whenever he found a new variety, sent her a cable.
So Mrs. Dan started on orchids with Bob. She hadn't the slightestinterest in orchids, but she displayed a simulated interest that soundedalmost like real interest. Mrs. Dan hadn't practised on society, or hadsociety practise on her, all these years for nothing. She could get thatsimulated-interested tone going without any effort. But Bob's attentionwandered, and he gazed toward Miss Gerald who occupied a place quite adistance from him.
Mrs. Dan, failing to interest Bob on orchids, now took another tack. Shesailed a conversational course on caviar. Men usually like things toeat, and to talk about them, especially such caviar as this. But Bobeyed the almost priceless Malasol as if it were composed of plain,ordinary fish-eggs. He didn't even enthuse when he took a sip of Mosellethat matched the Malasol and had more "bouquet" than the flowers. SoMrs. Dan, again altering her conversational course, sailed merrilybefore the wind amid the breeze of general topics and gay lightpersiflage. She was at her best now. There wasn't anything she didn'tknow something about. She talked plays, operas and amusements whichgradually led her up to roof gardens. She took her time, though, beforelaying the bowsprit of her desires straight in the real direction shewished to go. She knew she could proceed cautiously and circumspectly,that there was no need for hurry; the meal would be fairly prolonged.Mrs. Ralston's dinners were elaborate affairs; there might even be a fewprofessional entertainment features between courses.
"And speaking about roof gardens," went on Mrs. Dan, looking any waysave at Bob, "I believe you were telling me, only this afternoon, howyou and dear Dan were finally driven to them as a last resort. Poor Dan!So glad to hear he could get a breath of fresh air in that stuffy oldtown! Just hated to think of him confined to some stuffy old office. Menwork too hard in our strenuous, bustling country, don't you think so?And then they break down prematurely. I've always told Dan," she rattledon, "to enjoy himself--innocently, of course." She paused to takebreath. "Don't you think men work too hard in America, Mr. Bennett?" sherepeated.
"Sometimes," said Bob.
She gave him a quick look. Perhaps she was proceeding rather fast,though Bob didn't look on his guard. "As I told you, I adore roofgardens. But you were telling me you men were not alone. What harm!" shegurgled. "Some people," talking fast, "are so prudish. I'm sure we'renot put in the world to be that. Don't you agree?"
"Of course," said Bob absently. He didn't like the way that fellow downon the other side of the table was gazing into Miss Gwendoline's eyes."I beg your pardon. I--I don't think I caught that."
"We were saying there were some wom--ladies with you," said Mrs. Danquickly. Too quickly! She strove to curb her precipitancy. "Youremember? You told me?" Her voice trailed off, as if it were a matter oflittle interest.
"Did I?" Bob caught himself up with a jerk. He felt now as if he were abig fish being angled for, and gazed at her with sudden apprehension.The lady's, mien however, was reassuring.
"Of course," she laughed. "Don't you remember?"
"I believe I did say something of the kind." Slowly. He had had to.
"Surely you don't deny now?" she continued playfully.
"No." He had not spared himself. He couldn't spare Dan. The lady'smanner seemed to say: "_I_ don't care a little bit." Anyhow, the eveningin question had passed innocently, if frivolously, enough. No harm wouldcome to Dan in consequence. And again Bob's interest floated elsewhere.
He noticed Miss Gwendoline did not seem exactly averse to letting thatfellow by her side gaze into her eyes. Confound the fellow! He had oneof those open honest faces. A likable chap, too! One of theOlympian-game brand! A weight-putter, or hammer-thrower, or something ofthe kind. Bob could have heaved considerable of a sledge himself at thatmoment.
"Of course, boys will be boys," prattled Mrs. Dan at his side, just inthe least stridently. "I suppose you sat down and they just happenedalong and sat down, too! You couldn't very well refuse to let them,could you? That wouldn't have been very polite?" She hardly knew whatshe was saying herself now. Though a conversational general, on mostoccasions, her inward emotion was now running apace. It was almostbeating her judgment in the race. She tried to pull herself together."Why, in Paris, doing the sights at the Jardin or the Moulin Rouge, orthe Casino de Paris, every one takes it or them--these chanceacquaintances--as a matter of course. _Pour passer le temps!_ And whynot?" With a shrug and in her sprightliest manner. "So the ladies inthis instance, as you were saying, came right up, too, and--?"
She paused. That was crude--clumsy--even though she rattled it off as ifwithout thinking. She was losing all her finesse. But again, to hersurprise, the fish took the bait. She did not know Bob'spredicament--that _he_ couldn't finesse.
"Yes, they came up," said Bob reluctantly, though pleased that Mrs. Danappeared such a good kind of fellow.
"Show-girls?" asked the lady quickly.
"Well--ah!--two of them were."
"Two? And what were the others?"
Bob again regarded the lady apprehensively, but her expression waseminently reassuring. It went with the music, the bright flowers and therest of the gay scene. Mrs. Dan's smile was one of unadulteratedenjoyment; she didn't seem displeased at all. Must be she wasn'tdispleased! Perhaps she was like some of those model French wives whoaren't averse at all to having other ladies attentive to their husbands?Mrs. Dan had lived in Paris and might have acquired with a real accentan accompanying broad-mindedness of character. That might be what madethe dear old commodore act so happy most of the time, and so juvenile,too! Mrs. Dan _looked_ broad-minded. She had a broad face and her figurewas broad--very! At the moment she seemed fairly to radiatebroad-mindedness and again Bob felt glad--on the commodore's account. Hehad nothing to feel glad about, himself, with that confoundedhammer-thrower--
"Who were the others, did you say?" repeated Mrs. Dan, in her mostbroad-minded tone.
She seemed only talking to make conversation and looked awayunconcernedly as she spoke. Lucky for Dan she was broad-minded--thatthey had once been expatriates together! Even if she hadn't been,however, Bob would have had to tell the truth.
"Who were the others?" he repeated absently, one eye on Miss Gerald."Oh, they were 'ponies.'"
"'Ponies,'" said the lady giving a slight start and then recovering. "Ibeg your pardon, but--ah--do you happen to be referring to thehorse-show?"
"Not at all," answered Bob. "The ponies I refer to," wearily, "are notequine." These technical explanations were tiresome. At that moment hewas more concerned with the hammer-thrower, who had evidently justhurled a witticism at Miss Gerald, for both were laughing. Would thatBob could have caught the silvery sound of her voice! Would he had beennear enough! Across the table, the little dark thing threw him a fewconsolatory glances. He had almost forgotten about her. Miss Dolly'stemperamental eyes seemed to say "Drink to me only with thine eyes," andBob responded recklessly to the invitation. The little dark thing seemedthe only one on earth who was good to him. He drank to her with hiseyes--without
becoming intoxicated. Then she held a glass to her lipsand gazed at him over it. He held one to his and did likewise. He shouldhave become doubly intoxicated, but he didn't. He set down his glassmournfully. Miss Gerald noticed this sentimental little byplay, but whatBob did was, of course, of no moment to her.
"Ponies, Mr. Bennett? And not equine?" Mrs. Dan with difficultysucceeded in again riveting Bob's wandering attention. "Ah, of course!"Her accents rising frivolously. "How stupid of me!" Gaily. "You mean thekind that do the dancing in the musical shows." And Mrs. Dan glanced alittle furtively at her right.
But on that side the good bishop was still expounding earnestly to thelady he had brought in. He was not in the least interested in what Mrs.Dan and Bob were saying. He was too much concerned in what he was sayinghimself. At Bob's left sat the young lady who had been his partner attennis in the afternoon but she, obviously, took absolutely no interestin Bob now. He had a vague recollection of having been forced to saysomething in her hearing, earlier in the day, that had sounded almost asbad as his tennis-playing had been. Truth, according to thephilosophers, is beautiful. Only it doesn't seem to be! This young ladyhad turned as much of the back of a bare "cold shoulder" on Bob at thetable as she could. In fact, she made it quite clear Mrs. Dan could havethe young man entirely to herself. So Mrs. Dan and Bob were really asalone, for confidential conversational purposes, as if they had beensecluded in some retired cozy-corner.
"Two show-girls and two ponies!" Mrs. Dan went on blithely. "That madeone apiece." With a laugh. "Who got the ponies?"
"Clarence got one."
"And Dan?"
Bob nodded. He had to, it was in the contract. The lady laughed againright gaily.
"Dan always did like the turf," she breathed softly. "So fond of thetrack, or anything equine."
For the moment Bob became again almost suspicious of her, she was _such_a "good fellow"! And Bob wasn't revengeful; because he had sufferedhimself he didn't wish the commodore any harm. Of course it would berather a ghastly joke on the commodore if Mrs. Dan wasn't such a "goodfellow" as she seemed. But Bob dismissed that contingency. He washelpless, anyway. He was no more than a chip in a stream. The current ofMrs. Dan's questions carried him along.
"And what did the pony Dan got, look like?"
"I think she had reddish hair."
"How lurid! I suppose you all had a few ponies with the ponies?"Jocularly.
"Yes," said the answering-machine.
"I suppose the ponies had names? They usually do," she rattled on.
"Yes. They had names, of course."
"What was Dan's called?"
The orchestra was playing a little louder now--one of those wildpieces--a rhapsody!
"Don't know her real name."
"Her stage name, then?"
"Not sure of that!" Doubtfully.
"But Dan _must_ have called her something?" With a gay little laugh.
"Yes." Bob hesitated. In spite of that funereal feeling, he couldn'tsuppress a grin. "He called her Gee-gee."
"Gee-gee!" almost shrieked the lady. Then she laughed harder than ever.She was certainly a good actress. At that moment she caught Mrs.Clarence Van Duzen's eye; it was coldly questioning.
"And what did the pony Clarence got, look like?" Mrs. Dan had passed thestage of analyzing or reasoning clearly. She didn't even ask herself whyBob wasn't more evasive. She didn't want to know whether it was that"good-fellow" manner on her part that had really deceived him intounbosoming the truth to her, or whether--well, he had been drinking toomuch? He held himself soberly enough, it is true, but there are strongmen who look sober and can walk a chalk line, when they aren't sober atall. Bob might belong to that class. She thought she had detectedsomething on his breath when he passed on the links and he might havebeen "hitting it up" pretty hard since, on the side, with some of themen. In "vino veritas"! But whether "vino," or denseness on his part,she was sure of the "veritas." Instinct told her she had heard thetruth.
"And Clarence's pony--did she have red hair, too?" She put the questionin a different way, for Bob was hesitating again.
"No."
"What was its hue?"
"Peroxide, I guess." Gloomily.
"Is that all you remember?" Mrs. Dan now was plying questionsrecklessly, regardlessly, as if Bob were on the witness-stand and shewere state prosecutor.
"About all. Oh!--her nose turned up and she had a freckle."
"How interesting!" Mrs. Dan's laugh was rather forced, and she and Mrs.Clarence again exchanged glances, but Bob didn't notice. "And what wasshe called?" Breathing a little hard.
"Gid-up," said Bob gravely.
"'Gid-up'!" Again the lady almost had a paroxysm, but whether or not ofmirth, who shall say. "Gee-gee and Gid-up!" Her broad bosom rose andfell.
"Telegram, sir!" At that moment Bob heard another voice at his elbow.Across the table the man with the monocle was gazing at him curiously.