miss billie married-第42部分

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‘‘Now　no　man　enjoys　having　his　nose　put　out

of　joint；　even　by　his　own　child。　　He　loves　his

child　devotedly；　and　is　proud　of　him；　of　course；

but　that　does　not　keep　him　from　wanting　the　society

of　his　wife　occasionally；　nor　from　longing

for　her　old…time　love　and　sympathetic　interest。　

It　is　an　admirable　thing；　certainly；　for　a　woman

to　be　a　devoted　mother；　but　maternal　affection

can　be　carried　too　far。　　Husbands　have　some

rights　as　well　as　offspring；　and　the　wife　who

neglects　her　husband　for　her　babies　does　so　at　her

peril。　　Home；　with　the　wife　eternally　in　the

nursery；　is　apt　to　be　a　dull　and　lonely　thing　to　the

average　husband；　so　he　starts　out　to　find　amusement

for　himselfand　he　finds　it。　　Then　is　the

time　when　the　new　little　life　that　is　so　precious；

and　that　should　have　bound　the　two　more　closely

together；　becomes　the　wedge　that　drives　them

apart。''



Billy　did　not　read　any　more。　　With　a　little

sobbing　cry　she　flung　the　book　back　into　her

desk；　and　began　to　pull　off　her　wrapper。　　Her

fingers　shook。　　Already　she　saw　herself　a　Monster；

a　Wicked　Destroyer　of　Domestic　Bliss　with

her　thoughtless　absorption　in　Baby；　until　he　had

become　that　Awful　Thinga　_Wedge_。　　And　Bertram

poor　Bertram；　with　his　broken　arm！　　She

had　not　played　to　him；　nor　sung　to　him；　nor　gone

out　with　him。　　And　when　had　they　had　one　of

their　good　long　talks　about　Bertram's　work　and

plans？



But　it　should　all　be　changed　now。　　She　would

play；　and　sing；　and　go　out　with　him。　　She　would

dress　up；　too。　　He　should　see　no　more　wrappers。　

She　would　ask　about　his　work；　and　seem

interested。　　She　_was_　interested。　　She　remembered

now；　that　just　before　he　was　hurt；　he　had　told

her　of　a　new　portrait；　and　of　a　new　‘‘Face　of　a

Girl''　that　he　had　planned　to　do。　　Lately　he　had

said　nothing　about　these。　　He　had　seemed

discouragedand　no　wonder；　with　his　broken　arm！　

But　she　would　change　all　that。　　He　should　see！　

And　forthwith　Billy　hurried　to　her　closet　to　pick

out　her　prettiest　house　frock。



Long　before　dinner　Billy　was　ready；　waiting　in

the　drawing…room。　　She　had　on　a　pretty　little　blue

silk　gown　that　she　knew　Bertram　liked；　and　she

watched　very　anxiously　for　Bertram　to　come　up　the

steps。　　She　remembered　now；　with　a　pang；　that　he

had　long　since　given　up　his　peculiar　ring；　but　she

meant　to　meet　him　at　the　door　just　the　same。



Bertram；　however；　did　not　come。　　At　a　quarter

before　six　he　telephoned　that　he　had　met　some

friends；　and　would　dine　at　the　club。



‘‘My；　my；　how　pretty　we　are！''　exclaimed

Uncle　William；　when　they　went　down　to　dinner

together。　　‘‘New　frock？''



‘‘Why；　no；　Uncle　William；''　laughed　Billy；　a

little　tremulously。　　‘‘You've　seen　it　dozens　of

times！''



‘‘Have　I？''　murmured　the　man。　　‘‘I　don't

seem　to　remember　it。　　Too　bad　Bertram　isn't

here　to　see　you。　　Somehow；　you　look　unusually

pretty　to…night。''



And　Billy's　heart　ached　anew。



Billy　spent　the　evening　practicingsoftly；

to　be　sure；　so　as　not　to　wake　Babybut　_practicing_。



As　the　days　passed　Billy　discovered　that　it

was　much　easier　to　say　she　would　‘‘change

things''　than　it　was　really　to　change　them。　　She

changed　herself；　it　is　trueher　clothes；　her

habits；　her　words；　and　her　thoughts；　but　it　was

more　difficult　to　change　Bertram。　　In　the　first

place；　he　was　there　so　little。　　She　was　dismayed

when　she　saw　how　very　little；　indeed；　he　was　at

homeand　she　did　not　like　to　ask　him　outright

to　stay。　　That　was　not　in　accordance　with　her

plans。　　Besides；　the　‘‘Talk　to　Young　Wives''

said　that　indirect　influence　was　much　to　be

preferred；　always；　to　direct　persuasionwhich

last；　indeed；　usually　failed　to　produce　results。



So　Billy　‘‘dressed　up；''　and　practiced；　and

talked　（of　anything　but　the　baby）；　and　even

hinted　shamelessly　once　or　twice　that　she　would

like　to　go　to　the　theater；　but　all　to　little　avail。　

True；　Bertram　brightened　up；　for　a　minute；　when

he　came　home　and　found　her　in　a　new　or　a　favorite

dress；　and　he　told　her　how　pretty　she　looked。　

He　appeared　to　like　to　have　her　play　to　him；　too；

even　declaring　once　or　twice　that　it　was　quite

like　old　times；　yes；　it　was。　　But　he　never　noticed

her　hints　about　the　theater；　and　he　did　not　seem

to　like　to　talk　about　his　work；　even　a　little　bit。



Billy　laid　this　last　fact　to　his　injured　arm。　　She

decided　that　he　had　become　blue　and　discouraged；

and　that　he　needed　cheering　up；　especially

about　his　work；　so　she　determinedly　and

systematically　set　herself　to　doing　it。



She　talked　of　the　fine　work　he　had　done；　and

of　the　still　finer　work　he　would　yet　do；　when　his

arm　was　well。　　She　told　him　how　proud　she　was

of　him；　and　she　let　him　see　how　dear　his　Art　was

to　her；　and　how　badly　she　would　feel　if　she　thought

he　had　really　lost　all　his　interest　in　his　work　and

would　never　paint　again。　　She　questioned　him

about　the　new　portrait　he　was　to　begin　as　soon

as　his　arm　would　let　him；　and　she　tried　to　arouse

his　enthusiasm　in　the　picture　he　had　planned　to

show　in　the　March　Exhibition　of　the　Bohemian

Ten；　telling　him　that　she　was　sure　his　arm　would

allow　him　to　complete　at　least　one　canvas　to　hang。



In　none　of　this；　however；　did　Bertram　appear

in　the　least　interested。　　The　one　thing；　indeed；

which　he　seemed　not　to　want　to　talk　about；　was

his　work；　and　he　responded　to　her　overtures　on

the　subject　with　only　moody　silence；　or　else　with

almost　irritable　monosyllables；　all　of　which　not

only　grieved　but　surprised　Billy　very　much。　　For；

according　to　the　‘‘Talk　to　Young　Wives；''　she

was　doing　exactly　what　the　ideal；　sympathetic；

interested…in…her…husband's…work　wife　should　do。



When　February　came；　bringing　with　it　no

change　for　the　better；　Billy　was　thoroughly

frightened。　　Bertram's　arm　plainly　was　not

improving。　　He　was　more　gloomy　and　restless　than

ever。　　He　seemed　not　to　want　to　stay　at　home

at　all；　and　Billy　knew　now　for　a　certainty　that　he

was　spending　more　and　more　time　with　Bob

Seaver　and　‘‘the　boys。''



Poor　Billy！　　Nowhere　could　she　look　these　days

and　see　happiness。　　Even　the　adored　baby　seemed；

at　times；　almost　to　give　an　added　pang。　　Had　he

not　become；　according　to　the　‘‘Talk　to　Young

Wives''　that　awful　thing；　a　_Wedge_？　　The　Annex；

too；　carried　its　sting；　for　where　was　the　need　of

an　overflow　house　for　happiness　now；　when　there

was　no　happiness　to　overflow？　　Even　the　little

jade　idol　on　Billy's　mantel　Billy　could　not　bear

to　see　these　days；　for　its　once　bland　smile　had

become　a　hideous　grin；　demanding；　‘‘Where；

now；　is　your　heap　plenty　velly　good　luckee？''



But；　before　Bertram；　Billy　still　carried　a　bravely

smiling　face；　and　to　him　still　she　talked　earnestly

and　enthusiastically　of　his　workwhich　last；

as　it　happened；　was　the　worst　course　she　could

have　pursued；　for　the　one　thing　poor　Bertram

wished　to　forget；　just　now；　washis　work。







CHAPTER　XXVIII



CONSPIRATORS





Early　in　February　came　Arkwright's　appearance

at　the　Boston　Opera　Housethe　first　since

he　had　sung　there　as　a　student　a　few　years　before。　

He　was　an　immediate　and　an　unquestioned　success。　

His　portrait　adorned　the　front　page　of　almost

every　Boston　newspaper　the　next　morning；

and　captious　critics　vied　with　each　other　to　do

him　honor。　　His　full　history；　from　boyhood　up；

was　featured；　with　special　emphasis　on　his　recent

triumphs　in　New　York　and　foreign　capitals。　　He

was　interviewed　as　to　his　opinion　on　everything

from　vegetarianism　to　woman's　suffrage；　and

his　preferences　as　to　pies　and　pastimes　were　given

headline　prominence。　　There　was　no　doubt　of　it。　

Mr。　M。　J。　Arkwright　was　a　star。



All　Arkwright's　old　friends；　including　Billy；

Bertram；　Cyril；　Marie；　Calderwell；　Alice　Greggory；

Aunt　Hannah；　and　Tommy　Dunn；　went　to

hear　him　sing；　and　after　the　performance　he　held

a　miniature　reception；　with　enough　adulation　to

turn　his　head　completely　around；　he　declared

deprecatingly。　　Not　until　the　next　evening；　however；

did　he　have　an　opportunity　for　what　he

called　a　real　talk　with　any　of　his　friends；　then；

in　Calderwell's　room；　he　settled　back　in　his　chair

with　a　sigh　of　content。



For　a　time　his　own　and　Calderwell's　affairs

occupied　their　attention；　then；　after　a　short　pause；

the　tenor　asked　abruptly：



‘‘Is　there　anythingwrong　with　the　Henshaws；

Calderwell？''



Calderwell　came　suddenly　erect　in　his　chair。



‘‘Thank　you！　　I　hoped　you'd　introduce　that

subject；　though；　for　that　matter；　if　you　hadn't；

I　should。　　Yes；　there　isand　I'm　looking　to

you；　old　man；　to　get　them　out　of　it。''



‘‘I？''　Arkwright　sat　erect　now。



‘‘Yes。''



‘‘What　do　you　mean？''



‘‘In　a　way；　the　expected　has　happened

though　I　know　now　that　I　didn't　really　expect

it　to　happen；　in　spite　of　my　prophecies。　　You　may

remember　I　was　always　skeptical　on　the　subject

of　Bertram's　settling　down　to　a　domestic　hearthstone。　

I　insisted　'twould　be　the　turn　of　a　girl's

head　and　the　curve　of　her　cheek　that　he　wanted

to　paint。''



Arkwright　looked　up　with　a　quick　frown。



‘‘You　don't　mean　that　Henshaw　has　been　cad

enough　to　find　another''



Calderwell　threw　up　his　hand。



‘‘No；　no；　not　that！　　We　haven't　that　to　deal

withyet；　thank　goodness！　　There's　no　woman

in　it。　　And；　really；　when　you　come　right　down　to

it；　if　ever　a　fellow　had　an　excuse　to　seek　diversion；

Bertram　Henshaw　haspoor　chap！　　It's　just

this。　　Bertram　broke　his　arm　again　last　October。''



‘‘Yes；　so　I　hear；　and　I　thought　he　was　looking

badly。''



‘‘He　is。　　It's　a　bad　business。　　'Twas　improperly

set　in　the　first　place；　and　it's　not　doing　well

now。　　In　fact；　I'm　told　on　pretty　good　authority

that　the　doctor　says　he　probably　will　never　use

it　again。''



‘‘Oh；　by　George！　　Calderwell！''



‘‘Yes。　　Tough；　isn't　it？　　'Specially　when　you

think　of　his　work；　and　knowas　I　happen　to

that　he's　particularly　dependent　on