miss billie married-第16部分

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CHAPTER　X



THE　DINNER　BILLY　GOT





At　five　minutes　of　six　Bertram　and　Calderwell

came。　　Bertram　gave　his　peculiar　ring　and　let

himself　in　with　his　latchkey；　but　Billy　did　not

meet　him　in　the　hall；　nor　in　the　drawing…room。　

Excusing　himself；　Bertram　hurried　up…stairs。　

Billy　was　not　in　her　room；　nor　anywhere　on　that

floor。　　She　was　not　in　William's　room。　　Coming

down…stairs　to　the　hall　again；　Bertram　confronted

William；　who　had　just　come　in。



‘‘Where's　Billy？''　demanded　the　young　husband；

with　just　a　touch　of　irritation；　as　if　he

suspected　William　of　having　Billy　in　his　pocket。



William　stared　slightly。



‘‘Why；　I　don't　know。　　Isn't　she　here？''



‘‘I'll　ask　Pete；''　frowned　Bertram。



In　the　dining…room　Bertram　found　no　one；

though　the　table　was　prettily　set；　and　showed

half　a　grapefruit　at　each　place。　　In　the　kitchen

in　the　kitchen　Bertram　found　a　din　of　rattling

tin；　an　odor　of　burned　food；　a　confusion　of

scattered　pots　and　pans；　a　frightened　cat　who　peered

at　him　from　under　a　littered　stove；　and　a　flushed；

disheveled　young　woman　in　a　blue　dust…cap　and

ruffled　apron；　whom　he　finally　recognized　as　his

wife。



‘‘Why；　Billy！''　he　gasped。



Billy；　who　was　struggling　with　something　at

the　sink；　turned　sharply。



‘‘Bertram　Henshaw；''　she　panted；　‘‘I　used　to

think　you　were　wonderful　because　you　could

paint　a　picture。　　I　even　used　to　think　I　was　a

little　wonderful　because　I　could　write　a　song。　

Well；　I　don't　any　more！　　But　I'll　tell　you　who　_is_

wonderful。　　It's　Eliza　and　Rosa；　and　all　the　rest

of　those　women　who　can　get　a　meal　on　to　the

table　all　at　once；　so　it's　fit　to　eat！''



‘‘Why；　Billy！''　gasped　Bertram　again；　falling

back　to　the　door　he　had　closed　behind　him。　

‘‘What　in　the　world　does　this　mean？''



‘‘Mean？　　It　means　I'm　getting　dinner；''　choked

Billy。　　‘‘Can't　you　see？''



‘‘ButPete！　　Eliza！''



‘‘They're　sickI　mean　he's　sick；　and　I　said

I'd　do　it。　　I'd　be　an　oak。　　But　how　did　I　know

there　wasn't　anything　in　the　house　except　stuff

that　took　hours　to　cookonly　potatoes？　　And

how　did　I　know　that　_they_　cooked　in　no　time；　and

then　got　all　smushy　and　wet　staying　in　the　water？　

And　how　did　I　know　that　everything　else　would

stick　on　and　burn　on　till　you'd　used　every　dish

there　was　in　the　house　to　cook　'em　in？''



‘‘Why；　Billy！''　gasped　Bertram；　for　the　third

time。　　And　then；　because　he　had　been　married

only　six　months　instead　of　six　years；　he　made　the

mistake　of　trying　to　argue　with　a　woman　whose

nerves　were　already　at　the　snapping　point。　

‘‘But；　dear；　it　was　so　foolish　of　you　to　do　all　this！　

Why　didn't　you　telephone？　　Why　didn't　you　get

somebody？''



Like　an　irate　little　tigress；　Billy　turned　at　bay。



‘‘Bertram　Henshaw；''　she　flamed　angrily；　‘‘if

you　don't　go　up…stairs　and　tend　to　that　man　up

there；　I　shall　_scream_。　　Now　go！　　I'll　be　up　when　I

can。''



And　Bertram　went。



It　was　not　so　very　long；　after　all；　before　Billy

came　in　to　greet　her　guest。　　She　was　not　stately

and　imposing　in　royally　sumptuous　blue　velvet

and　ermine；　nor　yet　was　she　cozy　and　homy　in

bronze…gold　crpe　de　Chine　and　swan's…down。　

She　was　just　herself　in　a　pretty　little　morning

house　gown　of　blue　gingham。　　She　was　minus　the

dust…cap　and　the　ruffled　apron；　but　she　had　a　dab

of　flour　on　the　left　cheek；　and　a　smutch　of　crock

on　her　forehead。　　She　had；　too；　a　cut　finger　on　her

right　hand；　and　a　burned　thumb　on　her　left。　　But

she　was　Billyand　being　Billy；　she　advanced

with　a　bright　smile　and　held　out　a　cordial　hand

not　even　wincing　when　the　cut　finger　came　under

Calderwell's　hearty　clasp。



‘‘I'm　glad　to　see　you；''　she　welcomed　him。　

‘‘You'll　excuse　my　not　appearing　sooner；　I'm

sure；　fordidn't　Bertram　tell　you？I'm　playing

Bridget　to…night。　　But　dinner　is　ready　now；

and　we'll　go　down；　please；''　she　smiled；　as　she

laid　a　light　hand　on　her　guest's　arm。



Behind　her；　Bertram；　remembering　the　scene

in　the　kitchen；　stared　in　sheer　amazement。　　Bertram；

it　might　be　mentioned　again；　had　been

married　six　months；　not　six　years。



What　Billy　had　intended　to　serve　for　a　‘‘simple

dinner''　that　night　was：　grapefruit　with　cherries；

oyster　stew；　boiled　halibut　with　egg　sauce；　chicken

pie；　squash；　onions；　and　potatoes；　peach　fritters；

a　‘‘lettuce　and　stuff''　salad；　and　some　new　pie

or　pudding。　　What　she　did　serve　was：　grapefruit

（without　the　cherries）；　cold　roast　lamb；　potatoes

（a　mush　of　sogginess）；　tomatoes　（canned；　and

slightly　burned）；　corn　（canned；　and　very　much

burned）；　lettuce　（plain）；　and　for　dessert；　preserved

peaches　and　cake　（the　latter　rather　dry　and

stale）。　　Such　was　Billy's　dinner。



The　grapefruit　everybody　ate。　　The　cold　lamb

too；　met　with　a　hearty　reception；　especially　after

the　potatoes；　corn；　and　tomatoes　were　served

and　tasted。　　Outwardly；　through　it　all；　Billy　was

gayety　itself。　　Inwardly　she　was　burning　up　with

anger　and　mortification。　　And　because　she　was

all　this；　there　was；　apparently；　no　limit　to　her

laughter　and　sparkling　repartee　as　she　talked

with　Calderwell；　her　guestthe　guest　who；

according　to　her　original　plans；　was　to　be　shown　how

happy　she　and　Bertram　were；　what　a　good　wife

she　made；　and　how　devoted　and　_satisfied_　Bertram

was　in　his　home。



William；　picking　at　his　dinneras　only　a

hungry　man　can　pick　at　a　dinner　that　is　uneatable

watched　Billy　with　a　puzzled；　uneasy

frown。　　Bertram；　choking　over　the　few　mouthfuls

he　ate；　marked　his　wife's　animated　face　and

Calderwell's　absorbed　attention；　and　settled　into

gloomy　silence。



But　it　could　not　continue　forever。　　The　preserved

peaches　were　eaten　at　last；　and　the　stale

cake　left。　　（Billy　had　forgotten　the　coffee

which　was　just　as　well；　perhaps。）　　Then　the　four

trailed　up…stairs　to　the　drawing…room。



At　nine　o'clock　an　anxious　Eliza　and　a　remorseful；

apologetic　Pete　came　home　and　descended

to　the　horror　the　once　orderly　kitchen　and　dining…

room　had　become。　　At　ten；　Calderwell；　with　very

evident　reluctance；　tore　himself　away　from　Billy's

gay　badinage；　and　said　good　night。　　At　two

minutes　past　ten；　an　exhausted；　nerve…racked　Billy

was　trying　to　cry　on　the　shoulders　of　both　Uncle

William　and　Bertram　at　once。



‘‘There；　there；　child；　don't！　　It　went　off　all

right；''　patted　Uncle　William。



‘‘Billy；　darling；''　pleaded　Bertram；　‘‘please

don't　cry　so！　　As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　step　foot　in

that　kitchen　again！''



At　this　Billy　raised　a　tear…wet　face；　aflame　with

indignant　determination。



‘‘As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　keep　me　_from_　it；　Bertram

Henshaw；　after　this！''　she　contested。　　‘‘I'm

not　going　to　do　another　thing　in　all　my　life　but

_cook！_　　When　I　think　of　the　stuff　we　had　to　eat；

after　all　the　time　I　took　to　get　it；　I'm　simply　crazy！　

Do　you　think　I'd　run　the　risk　of　such　a　thing　as

this　ever　happening　again？''







CHAPTER　XI



CALDERWELL　DOES　SOME　QUESTIONING





On　the　day　after　his　dinner　with　Mr。　and　Mrs。

Bertram　Henshaw；　Hugh　Calderwell　left　Boston

and　did　not　return　until　more　than　a　month　had

passed。　　One　of　his　first　acts；　when　he　did　come；

was　to　look　up　Mr。　M。　J。　Arkwright　at　the　address

which　Billy　had　given　him。



Calderwell　had　not　seen　Arkwright　since　they

parted　in　Paris　some　two　years　before；　after　a　six…

months　tramp　through　Europe　together。　　Calderwell

liked　Arkwright　then；　greatly；　and　he　lost

no　time　now　in　renewing　the　acquaintance。



The　address；　as　given　by　Billy；　proved　to　be　an

attractive　but　modest　apartment　hotel　near　the

Conservatory　of　Music；　and　Calderwell　was

delighted　to　find　Arkwright　at　home　in　his

comfortable　little　bachelor　suite。



Arkwright　greeted　him　most　cordially。



‘‘Well；　well；''　he　cried；　‘‘if　it　isn't　Calderwell！　

And　how's　Mont　Blanc？　　Or　is　it　the　Killarney

Lakes　this　time；　or　maybe　the　Sphinx　that　I

should　inquire　for；　eh？''



‘‘Guess　again；''　laughed　Calderwell；　throwing

off　his　heavy　coat　and　settling　himself　comfortably

in　the　inviting…looking　morris　chair　his

friend　pulled　forward。



‘‘Sha'n't　do　it；''　retorted　Arkwright；　with　a

smile。　　‘‘I　never　gamble　on　palpable　uncertainties；

except　for　a　chance　throw　or　two；　as　I　gave

a　minute　ago。　　Your　movements　are　altogether

too　erratic；　and　too　far…reaching；　for　ordinary

mortals　to　keep　track　of。''



‘‘Well；　maybe　you're　right；''　grinned　Calderwell；

appreciatively。　　‘‘Anyhow；　you　would　have

lost　this　time；　sure　thing；　for　I've　been　working。''



‘‘Seen　the　doctor　yet？''　queried　Arkwright；

coolly；　pushing　the　cigars　across　the　table。



‘‘Thanksfor　both；''　sniffed　Calderwell；　with

a　reproachful　glance；　helping　himself。　　‘‘Your

good　judgment　in　some　matters　is　still　unimpaired；

I　see；''　he　observed；　tapping　the　little　gilded　band

which　had　told　him　the　cigar　was　an　old　favorite。　

‘‘As　to　other　matters；　however；you're　wrong

again；　my　friend；　in　your　surmise。　　I　am　not　sick；

and　I　have　been　working。''



‘‘So？　　Well；　I'm　told　they　have　very　good

specialists　here。　　Some　one　of　them　ought　to

hit　your　case。　　Stillhow　long　has　it　been

running？''　　Arkwright's　face　showed　only　grave

concern。



‘‘Oh；　come；　let　up；　Arkwright；''　snapped

Calderwell；　striking　his　match　alight　with　a　vigorous

jerk。　　‘‘I'll　admit　I　haven't　ever　given　any　_special_

indication　of　an　absorbing　passion　for　work。　　But

what　can　you　expect　of　a　fellow　born　with　a

whole　dozen　silver　spoons　in　his　mouth？　　And

that's　what　I　was；　according　to　Bertram　Henshaw。　

According　to　him　again；　it's　a　wonder　I

ever　tried　to　feed　myself；　and　perhaps　he's　right

with　my　mouth　already　so　full。''



‘‘I　should　say　so；''　laughed　Arkwright。



‘‘Well；　be　that　as　it　may。　　I'm　going　to　feed

myself；　and　I'm　going　to　earn　my　feed；　too。　　I

haven't　climbed　a　mountain　or　paddled　a　canoe；

for　a　year。　　I've　been　in　Chicago　cultivating　the

acquai