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Glory of Youth, a novel by Temple Bailey |
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Chapter 16. Voices In The Dark |
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_ CHAPTER XVI. VOICES IN THE DARK Captain Stubbs' cottage was one of the show places of the town. Built before the Revolution, it was of typical English rural architecture--one-storied, with a square chimney, and with a garden which made it the delight of artists who came from far and near to paint it; in the spring crocuses starred the borders, violets studded the lawn with amethyst, pale irises and daffodils, narcissus and jonquils stood in slim beauty. Later came sweet peas, and the roses followed, hiding with their beauty the weather-beaten boards. The late summer brought nasturtiums in all their richness of orange and bronze-brown, and in the fall, the dahlias blazed. The captain lived alone, attending to his domestic affairs in a fashion which was the envy of less spick and span housekeepers. He would not have his home invaded by prying folk, but to his invited and welcome guests he would show his carved ivories, his embroideries, heavy with gold, his dragon-encircled jars and vases. Everywhere was the charm of shining neatness, and flowers were everywhere. "I think I should have looked for a wife," the captain had told Bettina and Miss Matthews one day when they had lunched with him, "if it hadn't been for my flowers. I don't need a wife to cook for me. I'm a better cook than most women. And I don't need a wife to mend my clothes, because every sailor can handle a needle. And I don't need a wife to keep the house clean for me--there isn't any woman on earth that makes things shine like a man who has been taught to rub brasses and scrub down decks. What I'd need a wife for would be to make things pretty, and to look pretty herself. But Lord, I ain't the kind to attract a pretty woman--and so I just gave it up." A faint glimmer of resentment had shone in Miss Matthews' eyes. "I guess most women are kept so busy that they haven't time to think about their looks." "Well, if I had a wife," the captain had said, "I'd like to have her wear bright things. My mother had dimity dresses--there was a pink one, like a rose, and a green one that looked like the young grass in the spring, and there was one that made me think of forget-me-nots, or the sky when there isn't a cloud in it." Bettina had smiled at him. "How pretty your mother must have been." "It wasn't that she was so pretty; it was her soft, quiet ways, and those bright-colored roses. And I've been looking for that kind of woman ever since." "If your mother," little Miss Matthews had told him, "had lived in this day of shirt-waists and short skirts, she'd probably be wearing high collars and sad colors with the rest of us." The emphasis with which the little lady had offered her opinion and the flush on her face had made Bettina look at her with awakened eyes. "Why--I believe she likes him. She'd be really nice-looking if she'd fix her hair----" To-day, as Miss Matthews stopped for a moment at the captain's gate to admire his sweet peas, she was not even "nice-looking." She was pale and thin, and had a hoarse cough. "I'm going home and to bed," she said. "I took cold that day in the rain, captain, and it hasn't left me since, and I took more cold yesterday, going to school without my overshoes." "You come right in, and I'll make you a cup of tea," said the captain, hospitably. But Miss Matthews refused, wearily. As she turned away, however, Mrs. Martens came to get the flowers which were the captain's daily offering for Diana's table, and the little man extended a beaming invitation to both of them. "You pick your posies," he said, "and I'll get some tea for you and bring it right out here. You make her stay, Mrs. Martens; she needs a rest." Sophie smiled at the little teacher. "You ought not to be out at all," she said, sympathetically. "School closes in four days," explained little Miss Matthews; "after that I think I shall fall down and die, but I've got to keep up until then." As the two women stood there at the gate together, they presented a striking contrast: Sophie in her black, modish garments, with the look upon her face of the woman who has been loved, and who has bloomed because of it; Miss Matthews, a faded shadow of what she might have been if love had not passed her by. "How's Betty?" Miss Matthews asked, as she sat down on a bench on the little covered porch, and watched Sophie's slender fingers pull the sweet peas. Sophie straightened up. "I'm worried about her," she said. "She and Anthony Blake went to see the air-ships, and I had a telephone message from Anthony that he had had a hurry call, and that Justin would look after Betty. That was two hours ago, and Betty hadn't returned when I left to come here----" Captain Stubbs, appearing with a big loaded tray, gave important information. "Did she have on a white dress?" "Yes." "Then she's gone flying with Justin Ford." "What?" Sophie stood up, and all the fragrant blooms fell at her feet. "Oh, surely he wouldn't take Betty up with him. It would be dreadful." "Now, don't you worry," said the captain; "he ain't goin' to let a hair of her head get hurt--he's daffy over her." "Daffy?" Sophie stared. "Yep." The captain set his tray on the rustic table. "He and that Betty child went with me and Miss Matthews for a day's fishin', and at first we didn't notice anything, but after a while we began to open our eyes--and, well, we ain't blind, are we, Miss Matthews?" Miss Matthews, drinking her tea thirstily, took up the captain's story. "It rained, and the captain and I wrapped up and stayed by the boat. But those young folks ran off, and he was helping her along, and she was looking up at him--and--everybody knows what's going to happen when two people look at each other that way." "And if they are flying," the captain chuckled, "they're probably as near heaven as it's possible to be this side of the pearly gates." But Sophie would not treat the subject lightly. "It's bad enough for a man to fly," she said, "but he had no right to take that child up with him. Where did you see them, captain?" "I was standing on those rocks out there, and I saw him rise up over the harbor. I could see that he had someone with him, so I went in, and got my glass, and sure enough, there she was, all in white, with a white veil wrapped tight about her head." "Which way did they go?" "Straight out beyond the harbor, and up toward Gloucester way--but don't you worry, Mrs. Martens; they'll be back before they know it." "But I do worry," Sophie declared, "and I shall certainly tell Justin what I think of his foolhardiness." "Well, you take your tea," said the captain, soothingly, "and I'll call up and see if they have come in." Taking tea with the captain meant the tasting of many strange and wonderful flavors. The little man had clung to all the traditions of his seagoing forefathers, who had brought back from the Orient spicy things and sweet things--conserved fruits and preserved ginger, queer nuts in syrup, golden-flavored tea, and these he served with thick slices of buttered bread of his own making. "You might have had a lobster," he said to Sophie, "if it hadn't been so near your dinner time. I've got 'em fresh cooked." But Sophie shook her head. "I like your sweet things better. Bobbie and I are the ones who don't like lobster. He says that I'm a sort of oasis in a desert of shell-fish." "He's got a nice boat," said the captain, "and he's got a nice girl. I like Doris." Sophie's mind went back to Bettina. "Oh, will you telephone, please, captain?" The captain came back with the news that nothing had been seen of the "Gray Gull," but that there was no need to worry, as the day was perfectly calm, and that, as he had Miss Dolce with him, he would certainly not fly high. Sophie refused to be comforted. "I shall tell Anthony," she said; "he must speak to Justin." "I don't see what Blake's got to do with it," said the blunt captain; "young Ford may tell him to mind his business----" Sophie's head went up. "Dr. Blake is Bettina's guardian," she said, "and if Justin resents his interference, I shall certainly be much disappointed in Justin." Miss Matthews bristled. "You ought to have seen the care he took of her that day in the rain. I shall never forget the sight of those two young creatures running up the hill--the captain said then he had never seen a prettier pair." In the midst of her worry Sophie felt an insane desire to laugh. Was this tragedy only or, after all, a comedy? If Betty loved Justin? Her imagination could scarcely compass the consequences of this possibility. Sophie walked home with Miss Matthews, and, returning to Diana's, met Sara half-way. "Is Bettina flying with Justin?" Sara asked, abruptly. "Captain Stubbs says that she is. I am very much displeased with Justin. It is really unpardonable that Bettina should be subjected to such danger." "She didn't have to go if she didn't want to," said Sara, sharply, "but she's crazy about him----" "My dear----How do you know?" "Anybody can see it. And I guess it's the real thing this time with Justin." The wistful expression on the sharp little face touched Sophie's kind heart. "It's hardly likely. They have known each other for such a short time." "Time has nothing to do with love," said the sophisticated Sara. "A man and a girl can meet and love in a week and live happy ever after. Oh, yes, they can. And they can know each other all their lives and be perfectly miserable. Dad and mother grew up together, and you've heard, Mrs. Martens, what a life they lived." The story of the unhappiness of Sara's parents was common property. Yet it hurt Sophie to see the hard look in the girl's eyes. "My dear child," she said, "everything depends on the amount of affection which two people give each other--time doesn't count." Sara was digging the point of her parasol into the sand. "I've never seen anything like it with Justin. Why, he's _never_ asked any woman to fly with him. And when I looked up a while ago, and saw that he had--her--I knew he wouldn't have--asked her--if he hadn't--cared----" "Perhaps we are making things more serious than they really are," Sophie said. But as the two women walked on together, her mental disturbance continued. What if Miss Matthews and Sara had spoken the truth? How would it affect Bettina--how would it affect--Diana? "I can't quite understand what all the men see in her," Sara was saying. "Of course she's a beauty. But she's so little and white--and she doesn't seem so terribly clever----" "There's a charm she has inherited from those sleepy Venetian ladies, who only waked now and then to flash a glance at some man--and hold him captive. Those beauties were without conscience. But Bettina has a Puritan streak in her which she gets from her mother--that's what makes her such a fascinating combination, Sara. She's like a little nun; yet one feels instinctively that back of that calm exterior there is force and fire." Sara nodded. "I know. Men don't like the obvious. That's why so many of us American girls fail to inspire grand passions. We have no surprises--no high lights or shadows--it's all glare----" "I'm not sure, my dear, but that, in the long run, such women make men happier than the other kind. In this practical world there's little room for varying moods." "If Justin marries Bettina," said Sara, "they'll live on rhapsodies." She drew a quick short breath. "There won't be any commonplaces. They're both made that way. It will be all romance and roses----" "My dear--aren't we taking things a bit for granted?" "You'll see. You haven't watched them as I have." They had reached Diana's house, and Sophie asked Sara to come in. "I can't. It's getting late and I must dress for dinner----" "Some other time then, dear?" "Yes--I shall love it." Then, with some hesitation, "I'm afraid I've said more than I should----" Sophie bent and kissed her. "Not a bit. I'm a perfect keeper of confidences--and not a soul shall share what you've told me----" Delia met Mrs. Martens in the hall. "Dr. Blake's on the porch," she said, "and he's asking about Bettina----" "Hasn't she come?" "No." "What time is it, Delia----" "Half-past six----" "Of all the mad things to do," said Anthony, as Sophie went out to him. "I shall certainly call Justin to strict account--for asking her----" "She shouldn't have gone," Sophie said. "I can't imagine how he induced her. She's such a little coward." "They've been away three hours. I went over to the sheds and started a motor boat to search for them. They are beginning to realize over there that something may have happened." "Did Justin ask Betty while you were with her?" "No. He simply showed us around, and said he'd walk home with her. Oh, the young fool, the young fool. He can risk his own life if he chooses--but he had no right to take--that child----" The telephone rang, and Sophie, answering, found Justin at the other end. "We're at Gloucester, safe and sound. I'm awfully sorry if you've worried, Mrs. Martens. But I could not get to a 'phone before this. We'll come back by train, and Betty says you're not to wait dinner. We'll get something here. We're all right, really--only sorry if you are upset." "We are very much upset," Sophie told him, severely. "Anthony is here, and he is extremely anxious." "He needn't worry," grimly. "I can take care of her." Mrs. Martens, explaining the situation to Anthony a few minutes later, refrained, tactfully, from giving Justin's exact words. Anthony dined with her, then went off to see Miss Matthews, who had asked him to prescribe for her cold. "Call me up when Bettina comes," he said, as he left. Sophie promised, and watched him drive away in his little car. She had never seen him so nervous, so irritable. Was this what the thwarting of his life would mean--that he would let go of the serenity which had made his presence a benediction to his little world? Or was it really love for Bettina which so disturbed him? Stranger things had happened. Diana was away--Bettina was beautiful--Justin was in the field to measure lances. With Peter Pan for company, Sophie waited on the porch for the recreant pair. When they arrived it was very dark, and she could not see their faces. But what had made that difference in their voices--that subtle, thrilling difference? _ |
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