CHAPTER SIX - THE OTHER MAN
That evening Burnett felt it necessary to give his friend a word ofwarning.
"Holloway's going to take Betty in to-night," he said, as they descendedthe tower stairs together.
"Who's Holloway?" Jack asked.
"You can't expect to have her all the time, you know," Burnett continued:"She's really one of the biggest guns here, even if she is one of thefamily."
"Who's Holloway?"
"Last night the _mater_ had her all mapped out for General Jiggs, and Ihad an awful time getting her off his hook and on to yours, and then youdrove her all this morning and walked her all the afternoon, and the oldlady says she's got to play in Holloway's yard to-night--jus' lil' bit, youknow."
"Who's Holloway?" Jack demanded.
"You know Horace Holloway; we were up at his place once for the night.Don't you remember?"
"I remember his place well enough; but he hadn't got in when we came, andhadn't got up when we left, so his features aren't as distinctly imprintedon my memory as they might be."
"That's so," said Burnett, pushing aside the curtains that concealed thefoot of the wee stair; "I'd forgotten. Well, you'll meet him to-night,anyhow; he came on the five-five. Holly's a nice fellow, only he's sodarned over-full of good advice that he keeps you feeling withersome."
Jack laughed.
"Did he ever give you any advice?" he asked.
"Why?"
"I don't recollect your taking it."
"I never take anything," said Burnett; "I consider it more blessed to givethan to receive--as regards good advice anyhow."
"Who will I have for dinner?" Jack asked presently, glancing around to seeif there were any silver tissues or distracting curls in sight.
"Well," his friend replied, rather hesitatingly, "you must expect tobalance up for last night, I reckon."
"Your cousin, I suppose!"
Burnett nodded.
"She wanted you," he said. "She's taken a fancy to you; and she can affordto marry for love," he added.
"I'm thankful that I can, too," the other answered fervently.
His friend laughed at the fervor.
"You make me think of her teacher," he said. "She sings, and when she wassixteen she meant to outrank Patti; she was lots homelier then."
"Oh, I say!" Jack cried. "I can believe 'most anything, but--"
Burnett laughed and then sobered.
"She was," he said solemnly; "she really and truly _was_. And her mothersaid to her teacher,--there in Dresden: 'She will be the greatest soprano,won't she?' And he said: 'Madame, she has only that one chance--to be _the_greatest.'"
Jack laughed.
"But why 'Lorne'?" he asked suddenly. "Why not 'Burnett,' since she's youruncle's child?"
"Oh, that's straight enough; there's a hyphen there. My uncle died and myaunt married a title. My aunt's Lady Chiheleywicks, but the family name isLorne. And you pronounce my aunt's name Chix."
"I'm glad I know," said Jack.
"Oh, we're great on titles," said Burnett, modestly. "If the Boers hadn'tkilled Col. Rosscott, Betty would have been a Lady, too, some day. But asit is--" he added thoughtfully, "she's nothing but a widow."
"'Nothing but'!" Jack cried indignantly.
"Oh, well," said Burnett, "of course it's great, her being a widow--butthen she'd have been great the other way too."
"But if he was English and a colonel," Jack said suddenly, "he must havebeen all of--"
"Fifty!" interposed Burnett; "oh, he was! Maybe more, but he dyed hishair. It was a splendid match for her. It isn't every girl who can get a--"
Their conversation was suddenly cut short by voices, accompanied by a sortof sweet and silky storm of little rustles and the sound of feet--littlefeet--coming down the great hall. Aunt Mary's nephew felt himself suddenlywondering if any other fellow present had such a tempest within his bosomas he himself was conscious of attempting to regulate unperceived.
And then, after all, she wasn't among the influx! Miss Maude, was, though,and he had to go up to her and talk to her; and terribly dull hard laborit was.
While he was rolling the Sisyphus stone of conversation uphill for thesixth or seventh time, Jack noticed a gentleman pass by and throw a morethan ordinarily interesting glance their way. He was a very well-built,fairly good-sized man of thirty-five or forty years, with a handsome,uninteresting face and heavy, sleepy dark eyes.
"Who is that?" he asked of his companion, his curiosity supplementing hiswish that she would begin to bear her share of the burden of herentertainment.
"Don't you know?" she said in surprise. "That's Mr. Holloway. He's justcome. Oh, he's so horrid! I think he's just too awfully horrid for anyuse."
"Why?"
"Because he does such mean things. I just know Bob must have told you howhe treated me. Bob's always telling it. Surely he's told you. It's hisfavorite story."
"No, never," said Jack (his eyes riveted on the staircase); "he never toldme. But do tell me. I'll enjoy hearing your side of it."
"But I haven't any side. It's just Horace Holloway's meanness. There'snothing funny."
"But tell me anyway."
"Do you really want to hear?"
"Indeed, I do."
"Well, it's just that we were up in the mountains, and I was rowingmyself, and the boat didn't go well, and Mr. Holloway came down off thehotel piazza and called to me that she needed ballast, and--and I said: 'Isthat the trouble?' And he said: 'Yes, row ashore, and I'll ballast you.'And so, of course I rowed ashore to get him, and (of course, I supposed hemeant himself), and when I was up by the dock he picked up a great stoneand dropped it in, and shoved me off, and called after me: 'She'll gobetter now,' and--everyone laughed!"
Miss Lome stopped, breathless.
"I never would have believed it of him," Jack exclaimed, turning to seewhere Holloway kept his sense of humor; but just as his eye fell upon thelatter, the latter's eyes altered and suddenly became so bright and intentthat his observer involuntarily turned his own gaze quickly in the samedirection.
It was Mrs. Rosscott who was approaching, all in cerise with lines ofChantilly lace sweeping about her. It seemed a cruelty to every womanpresent that she should be so beautiful. Jack wanted to fly and fall ather feet, but he couldn't, of course--he was tied to her hyphenated cousin.
But Holloway went forward and greeted her with all possible_empressement,_ and the man who was so much his junior felt an awfulweight of youth upon him as he saw her led out of his sight.
"I think dear Betty will marry Mr. Holloway," her cousin chirped blandly,thus settling her fate forever. "He came over in her party, you know,and--she's always been fond of him."
Jack suddenly recollected how Mrs. Rosscott had commented on the terribletendency to land upon "and," and wondered why he had never noticed beforehow disagreeable said tendency was.
(Going to marry Holloway!)
"But, then, dear Cousin Betty's such a coquette that no one can ever tellwhom she does like. She's very insincere."
Jack twisted uneasily. If there was any comfort to be derived from MissLorne's last speech, it was certainly of a most chilly sort.
(Probably going to marry Holloway!)
"Now, I think it's too bad, when there are so many simple, sweet girls inthe world, that men seem to adore those that flirt like dear Cousin Betty.I don't approve of flirting anyway. I wouldn't flirt for anything. I don'twant to break men's hearts."
"That's awfully good of you," Jack said, looking eagerly to where Hollowayand Mrs. Rosscott stood together.
"Oh, no it isn't," said Miss Lorne, "I don't take any credit for it--I wasborn so. Dear Betty was a regular flirt when she was ever so small, but Inever was. I'm sincere and I can't take any credit for it. I was born so."
Holloway was talking and Mrs. Rosscott's eyes were uplifted to his. Jackwas sure there was adoration in them. He knew Holloway was in love withher. How could he be a man and help it. Oh, it was damnable--unbearable.
/> He stood up suddenly. He couldn't help it. He was crazed, maddened,choked, stifled. The fates must intervene and rescue his reason or else--
There was a blessed sound--the announcing of dinner.
* * * * *
Later there was music in the great white salon where the organ was. MaudeLome sang, and the man with the monocle accompanied her on the organ. Mrs.Rosscott sat on a divan between Holloway and General Jiggs. Jack was leftout in the cold.
(Surely in love with Holloway!)
It was only twenty-six hours since he had first met her, and he hated toconsider his life as unalterably blasted, or to even give up the fight.Nevertheless, whenever he looked across the room he saw fresh signs of themost awful kind. Even the way that she didn't trouble to trouble over theone man, but devoted herself to General Jiggs, was in itself a very badportent. Well, such was life and one must bear it somehow and be a man.Probably he would suffer less after the first five or ten years--he hopedso at any rate. But, great heavens, what a fearful prospect until thosefirst five or ten years were gone by!
Finally he went up to his own room and put on another collar and sat downat the open window and thought about it for a good while all quiet andalone by himself. After that he went back downstairs.
She was gone, and Holloway, too. He felt freshly unhappy. When you come toconsider, it was so damned unjust for one man to be thirty-five whileanother--just as decent a fellow in every way--was in college. He--
A hand touched his arm.
He turned from where he was standing in the window recess, and looked intoher eyes.
"I'm very wicked, am I not?" she asked, looking up at him so straight andhonest.
"I can't admit that," he replied.
"But I am. I know it myself. What Bob told you was all true. I'm aheartless wretch."
She spoke so earnestly that his heart sank lower and lower.
"I wanted to speak to you about to-morrow morning," she said, after alittle pause. "You know we were going to drive at ten together, and--and Iwondered if--you see, Mr. Holloway's an old friend, and he's had so much totell me to-night, and he isn't half through--"
She was drawing him with a chain, a hair chain, which she had woven out ofher eyelashes in the twinkling of an eye (either eye).
He felt himself helpless--and choked.
"Of course I don't mind. You go with him. It's quite one to me."
She gave a tiny little start.
"Oh, I didn't mean that at all," she cried. "I meant--I meant--you see it'sall been a little tiring--and to-morrow's Sunday anyway and I--I Wantedto--to ask you if we couldn't go out at eleven instead of ten?"
She looked so sweetly questioning, and his relief was so great, and hisjoy--
(Probably don't care a rap for Holloway!)
--so intense, that he could hardly refrain from seizing her in his arms.
But he only seized her little hand instead and pressed it fervently to hislips. When he raised his eyes she was smiling, and her smile filled himwith happiness.
"You're such a boy!" she said softly, and turned and left him there in thewindow recess alone again,--but this time he didn't care.