"That didn't count," he retorted.
"Not in the way you mean, perhaps," she supplemented. "And so you wentfrom Mrs. Weston's to the dance, and saw me there?"
"N-not directly. It was too early, and I was troubled and worried toknow what had become of you. I drove around a little, and walkedthrough the square----"
Her lids suddenly lifted, and she looked oddly at him.
"Madison Square?" she questioned swiftly.
He nodded. "Yes. I--er--just wanted to walk a little where it wasquiet and I could think. Then I joined my friends, and drove with themto Sherry's. I hadn't been there half an hour before I saw you."
"I suppose it did seem a trifle odd," she remarked, glancing out of thewindow.
"Odd doesn't quite express it. There you were in a wonderful gown withpearls and things, and talking to three or four men at once as if you'dknown them all your life. Of course, I couldn't believe my senses atfirst; and when at last I was sure, I--well, it was all so bewilderingand impossible that I couldn't seem to stay there."
"You mean you couldn't stay because you thought I'd been deceiving you?"she said quietly.
"There didn't seem to be any other explanation," he pleaded. "Next dayI came to my senses, and knew that there must be some other reason. Ofwhat it could be I hadn't the most remote conception; but I knew thatyou weren't the sort to make believe to that extent; and it was a bigrelief, I can tell you."
He hesitated a second, and bent forward slightly, his forehead wrinkledand his eyes fixed intently on her lovely face.
"Please forgive me," he begged, "and admit that there were extenuatingcircumstances."
*CHAPTER XXX.*
*THE TANGLED WEB.*
The girl's lids had drooped again, hiding the expression in her eyes,while the rest of her face told Barry nothing. He was just beginning towonder whether she was very angry, when suddenly she threw back herhead, and her lips parted in a peal of low laughter.
"Of course there were!" she exclaimed. "How absurd you are to take it soseriously, Mr. Lawrence! If I'd been in your place, I should have hateda girl I thought had played me such a trick. I think you're very nice,indeed, not to have thought worse things about me than you did, and Ireally haven't anything to forgive."
"You're sure of that?" he asked eagerly, his face glowing.
"Perfectly! And now that's over," she went on briskly, "don't you wantto hear my fairy tale?"
"You bet I do!" he asserted, with more force than elegance. "I've beeneaten up with curiosity ever since your letter came. It sounded aswildly impossible as an Arabian Night."
She laughed. "It was--it is yet. I'm really not quite certain that itisn't all a wonderfully vivid dream; though, as I wrote you, the clothesdo seem awfully convincing. You know, a person never by any chancedreams the sort of dresses one would like to have. They're alwaysutterly impossible."
She clasped one knee with both hands in a boyish way, and fixed herdancing eyes upon his face.
"I was a little frightened when I said good-by that night," she began."So many horrid things had happened that I wasn't even sure of Mrs.Weston, or Sally, or anything. I rang the bell, and the door was openedso suddenly that I jumped."
"I wondered at the time how any one could get up from the basement soquickly," Lawrence commented interestedly.
"You waited?" she questioned. "That was good of you. Well, Mrs. Westonwas already in the hall with a lady who seemed on the point of goingout. I didn't pay much attention to her except to notice that she wasbeautifully gowned and had quantities of wonderful jewels. You see, Iwanted to find out whether Sally was still in the house, so I turneddirectly to Mrs. Weston, and started to ask her. I'd spoken scarcelyhalf a dozen words before the other woman caught me by the arm and drewme over to the light. If she hadn't stared at me so strangely, Isuppose I'd have wondered what in the world she was doing in such aplace; for her pearls were really extraordinary, and the house--well,you know there was nothing especially high class about it. But she juststared and stared in the oddest way imaginable; then suddenly she criedout: 'Who are you, child?'
"The queer way she snapped out the words--it reminded me of bullets shotout of a gun--almost took my breath away; but I managed to tell her myname. It was fortunate she still held my arm; otherwise I'm sure Ishould have collapsed in sheer astonishment.
"'I knew it!' she exclaimed, in that extraordinary choppy manner. 'Iknew it the minute I set eyes on you. I'm your aunt.'"
"Your aunt!" gasped Barry.
"Yes, my aunt. Fancy! Whenever I think of it now I laugh. It wasreally screamingly funny, you know, to be told by a perfect stranger,who looks rather like a drum major, that she's an aunt you have neverheard of. I didn't laugh then, though. I thought she was crazy, andwas wondering how in the world I should get away from her, when all atonce I remembered that mother did have a sister very much older thanherself who had lived abroad almost all her life. She was eccentric tobegin with, and married unhappily; and finally, when mother was engaged,she was terribly opposed to it; and the result was a quarrel which keptthem apart all the rest of their lives. All this went through my mindlike a flash; and I was so taken back that I could only stammer:'You're--not--Aunt Beverly?'
"'Of course I am!' she snapped back. 'What other aunts have you got,I'd like to know?'
"And then she began to ask me questions as fast as she could talk. Shewanted to know what I was doing in New York, why I was wearing suchdreadful clothes, how I dared be out on the streets alone at such anhour, and a dozen other things. I suppose you'll think I'm hateful, Mr.Lawrence, but all at once I felt perfectly furious that she should haveall those wonderful diamonds and pearls and lovely clothes, and probablyquantities of money, while I hadn't even a coat to wear. And so I toldher everything she wanted to know, without mincing matters in the least;and for once she had nothing to say.
"She dropped the gold bag she was carrying; and, though she was quickenough in bending over for it, she was a long time straightening upagain; and, when at last she did speak, there was something in her voicewhich hadn't been there before.
"'Come, my dear,' she said quietly. 'It's time we were starting home.'
"The things which happened after that were much more like a dream thanany real dream I ever had. She called Mrs. Weston Janet when she saidgood night; and, when we went out, there was a private brougham waitingin the street, exactly as if it had been conjured up by a magic wand.There was no carriage in sight when we came through the street, wasthere?"
Barry shook his head. "No, but one passed me near Eighth Avenue," heanswered, struck by a sudden recollection.
"Really? That must have been it, then. Well, we came here, and I'vebeen in this miraculous walking dream ever since. At breakfast nextmorning, Aunt Beverly announced, in that gruff way of hers, that sheintended to adopt me. She said she was a sour old woman who for yearshad tried to be happy by spending her money on herself alone. Shehadn't been happy, so now she was going to see if making other peoplehappy would be any different. It seems that Mrs. Weston was an oldfriend whose husband died leaving her nothing but debts; and AuntBeverly's visit there last night was to do something for her. That'sall, I think. Of course, there are surprises every minute, for AuntBeverly is incredibly wealthy, and seems to delight in making my eyespop out. There doesn't seem to be anything one can wish for that shedoesn't conjure up in a minute or two."
She paused, her deep, wonderful eyes fixed intently on Barry's face.
"Isn't it amazing?" she queried. "Have you ever known anything quite sostrange in all your life?"
"Never!" agreed Lawrence. "It's simply corking! And I can't tell you,Miss Rives, how glad I am. Beside your experiences, my little strike ofluck shrinks into nothingness."
"But yours was the first," the girl replied, with an odd earnestness."Yours was the turn of destiny's wheel which started all the othermechanism into motion. But for y
ou, I should be--well, I don't knowwhere." She made an expressive gesture with her hands. "I shudderwhenever I think of it."
"You mustn't think of it, then," said Barry. "The future holds too manypleasant things for you to waste time upon the past."
"Controlling one's thoughts is not so easy as you seem to imagine,"Shirley retorted, glancing out of the window toward the snowy stretch ofpark across the avenue. "Besides, I am not at all sure that I wish toforget the past--at least, all of it."
Barry felt the blood rising into his face. What did she mean by that, ordid she mean anything? His hands closed tightly over the arms of thecarved chair, and, by a great effort, he restrained the impulse tospeak.
"Aunt Beverly is really splendid, and I'm becoming fonder of her everyday," the girl went on, turning back. "At first I was a little afraidof her, until I found out that her brusque, snappy manner was only anaffectation to hide what she really thinks and feels. I want you toknow her, for I'm sure you'll like each other. You'll stay to luncheon,won't you?"
"I should be delighted," Barry returned impulsively, then bit his lipsas he remembered. "But, unfortunately, I've an engagement," he went onafter that momentary pause. "I hope you'll let me call soon again,though, when she is at home. I haven't heard what the rest of her nameis yet."
"How stupid of me! She's Mrs. Ogden Wilmerding. Her husband has beendead about ten years, I believe, and this house and----"
But Lawrence heard no more. At the mention of that name, the smileseemed to freeze upon his lips, and something like a red-hot iron searedthrough his brain.
Mrs. Ogden Wilmerding! The eccentric widow of the traction magnate, whowas said to be one of the five wealthiest women in New York! Thisaccounted for the imposing house crammed with priceless works of art.This accounted for that sudden taking home of her niece and loading thegirl with costly clothes and more costly jewels. It was more thanlikely that she would carry out her plan of adopting Shirley; it wasjust the sort of thing she would delight in doing. But stranger thananything else was the incredible fact that the girl should be ignorantof a name which was famous in New York.
With a tremendous effort Lawrence managed to pull himself together andnod understandingly as Miss Rives finished.
"That's very interesting," he said inanely. "But--er--had you neverheard anything about this aunt before you saw her?"
"Almost nothing," she confessed. "She quarreled with father, you know,and he wouldn't allow her name to be mentioned in his presence. Isuppose it got to be a sort of habit about the place; and, by the time Iwas old enough to take notice, the others had stopped talking about her,even when they were alone."
With a brain which seemed heavy and dead, Barry tried to carry on hispart of the conversation naturally and lightly; but presently the effortbecame more than flesh and blood could stand, and he rose to take hisleave.
"You'll come soon when Aunt Beverly is here?" Shirley questioned as sheheld out her hand. "I want very much to have you meet her."
Barry's fingers closed around hers, and he smiled naturally, heroically.
"Of course," he returned quickly. "I should be delighted to come anytime you want me. You can call me at the St. Albans, and, if I'm notthere, leave your number with the clerk, and I'll get your message whenI come in."
"That's splendid," she said. "I'll call very soon. Good-by, and thankyou for the flowers."
With head high, Lawrence stepped through the doorway and let the velvethangings fall into place behind him. But in the tapestry-lined hall hestumbled blindly, then, spurred by the presence of the footman, pulledhimself together, and entered the elevator.
When at last he had donned his things and issued forth into the street,he turned instinctively southward without the slightest idea where hewas going, and without a single backward glance at the upper windowwhere a graceful, girlish form stood half revealed against a backgroundof old rose damask.
His face was set and rather pale; his gray eyes showed dumbly a littleof the despair which filled his soul at the presence of this tremendous,insurmountable barrier which had suddenly reared itself between him andthe girl--he loved.
*CHAPTER XXXI.*
*DESPAIR.*
As Barry walked down the avenue, aimless and unseeing, he thought ofmany things; but the one which loomed up biggest was the colossalfortune controlled by Mrs. Ogden Wilmerding. It seemed to hang over himlike some awful monster, hovering in the air ready to fall and crushhim. It filled Lawrence with despair. He disliked the woman he hadnever seen because of her money, because she was Shirley's aunt, and,lastly and most intensely, because she had taken it upon herself to castthe mantle of her wealth and position around the girl she had neglectedand ignored for so many years.
Barry realized perfectly the selfishness of this point of view; but hecould not help it. If only Mrs. Wilmerding had kept out of it thingswould have come right somehow. At least, there would have been left himthe feeling that he and Shirley Rives were on equal terms. He wouldstill have had the delight of knowing that there were many things hecould do to help the girl, instead of having her transported to a planeso infinitely above him, and so inaccessible.
Bitterly he contrasted the untold millions belonging to this new-foundrelative of hers with his own miserable pittance. His very name wastarnished, though through no fault of his; and it would be utterlyimpossible for him ever to harbor again the thoughts and hopes which hadpossessed him during the early part of his call.
Barry's abstraction was so great that he quite failed to notice the taxiwhich moved slowly out of a side street and trailed along the avenueabout half a block behind. He walked straight on until, at length,happening to glance up, the looming front of the St. Regis reminded himof the terms of his bargain; and he promptly entered, though he did notfeel at all like eating.
He had scarcely disappeared before the taxi drew up beside the curb, anda slim, dark fellow, immaculately dressed, stepped out. He paused bythe open door, talking in an undertone with a man who remained inside; aman with broad, thick shoulders, a round, full face, and a Vandyke beardslightly tinged with gray.
For perhaps a minute they conversed in low tones. Then the door wasslammed, and the taxi whirled on down the avenue, while the slim, dapperindividual made his way promptly into the St. Regis, languidly surveyedthe dining room from the doorway, and presently took his seat at a tablejust back of Lawrence.
The latter finished a very simple luncheon without so much as turninground, then made his way to the telephone operator. There was somedelay in getting Hamersley's office; but, when the connection was madeat last, he stepped into the booth, quite oblivious to the fact that thetall, dark fellow occupied the next one.
As Barry had half expected, Jock was out, so he left word for the Yaleman to meet him at the Knickerbocker at five if he possibly could, andsauntered out of the hotel.
Listlessly he turned downtown, wondering what under the sun men ofleisure did with their time. Somehow, the glamour which had envelopedhim for the past few days was beginning to wear away. Once more he wasdesperately tired of doing nothing but lunch and dine and evadedetectives. He wondered pettishly whether the man in black had beencaptured yet and taken back to his asylum, for it seemed impossible thatany sane person could have acted in such an extraordinary manner. Therewere the detectives, to be sure; but perhaps they were all of a piecewith the rest of the bewildering jumble. There seemed to be no reasonor sense to what anybody did. They were probably all mad.
Lawrence was, in short, at odds with himself and the world. He wouldhave given a lot to come face to face with some one he could sail intoand pummel with all his might. It would be such a relief now to runinto that smart Alec who had decoyed him to the house on Twenty-fourthStreet last night.
Happily the mood did not long continue. An hour's brisk, almostfeverish, walking brought with it a more sane outlook on life. WhenBarry strayed into a cafe on Times Square abou
t half past three, morefor lack of any other method of passing the time than from any realdesire for refreshment, he had quite recovered his poise.
He was making for a little table in the corner, when suddenly a handclutched his coat and a vaguely familiar voice sounded in his ear.
"I say, Oscar, sit down here, unless you're too bally proud to be seenwith me."
It was the Englishman who had puzzled him so at the dance at Sherry's,and for an instant Barry frowned. Then, struck by a sudden impulse, hesmiled and dropped down in a chair opposite the other. The fellowdidn't look like a bad sort, and he was sorely enough in need ofdiversion.
"Why should I be ashamed to be seen with you?" he asked lightly. "Wheredid you ever get that idea?"
The tall man's blue eyes widened. "Where'd I get it?" he echoed, insurprise. "Why, at that blooming dance, to be sure. You wouldn't speakto me then, old chap."
Lawrence tapped the bell.
"I beg your pardon, then," he said. "I was worried, and not reallymyself. What'll you have?"
When the waiter had taken their orders and departed, the Englishmanscrewed his monocle into his eye and sat regarding his companion for aminute in silence.
"Jolly glad of that," he said solemnly, at length. "Didn't seem like youto throw an old friend down. I couldn't understand it. Sure youweren't thinking of the bally rotten way I was forced to leaveCambridge, old chap?"
"Positive," Lawrence returned promptly. "I'd forgotten all about it."He hesitated an instant, and then went on at random: "Of course, thatwasn't your fault, you know."