MATCHED PEARLS (27 page)

Constance had a sick feeling that she was going to faint. She never fainted. But what was she going to do? He seemed in his intoxication to have a superhuman strength, and as they struggled silently she felt her own weakness and a frightened tightening of her throat. She cast about in her mind what to do. Must she scream? Must Grandmother have this excitement? Oh, if only Frank were here! But he had taken Dillie home and then likely walked around with young Howarth. Her father and mother had gone out to call on some friends, and the nurse had the evening off. Only the servants were at home, but they were away off in a wing over the kitchen. They might not even hear an outcry!

But Ruddy Van Arden was getting her in his power! He flung his free arm around her waist, his hot, offensive breath was on her cheek, and he literally forced her toward the window. She made herself a deadweight, but he lifted her from her feet, and she knew that in another instant he would have her out of doors in the dark. Her heart was beating wildly. Anger surged up in her, but she saw she couldn’t hold out against him much longer and fear took hold upon her.

Then suddenly she heard a keen young voice. “What’s the little old idea, you poor fish, you?” Frank bounded through the hall door and took the drunken man by the collar with a grip so hard and strangling that Ruddy Van gasped and gurgled helplessly.

“Let go of my sister!” commanded Frank and struck the other man’s wrist with a blow that sent his hand powerless to his side.

“Beat it, Connie!” ordered Frank in a stern aside. “I’ll deal with him.”

Constance retreated, trembling, to the hall and watched the conflict from the stairs, but Frank made short work of it, propelling Ruddy out of the french window. She heard an altercation out on the lawn and flew up the stairs to her window. Perhaps she ought to call for help.

But when she reached the window she could see by the light from the porch that Frank was assisting Ruddy into his car and she knew it would make him furious if she called anyone else into the matter, but when she saw him spring into the driver’s seat and take the wheel, she cried out in spite of all her resolve.

“Oh Frank, don’t!”

But the sound of the motor drowned her voice and the car was already beginning to move down the drive. She watched it go.

The porch light flashed on Ruddy’s face as they passed her window, and she could see he was slumped down in the seat as if he were already asleep. But the wind in his face would revive him. There was no telling what he might do if he roused. Why did Frank take such chances? She was frantic. What ought she to do?

She rushed downstairs again and out into the drive, down to the gate. She could see the car down the street going at Frank’s usual rushing pace, and—ah! It had turned into the Van Arden drive! She drew a long breath of relief. At least he was not going far away. If only it weren’t for leaving Grandmother alone she would run down and see what was happening. Perhaps Frank would have trouble with Ruddy when he tried to get him out of the car. Ought she to summon her father?

Then through the summer night she thought she heard a voice calling from the house. Was that Grandmother? She turned and ran swiftly back up to her grandmother’s door. Listening a moment she heard a soft stirring within.

“Did you call, Grand dear?” she asked softly, trying to take the excitement out of her voice.

“Why, yes,” said Grandmother, sitting up in the dark, her silver curls catching a gleam from the hall light and framing her face softly. “I thought I heard somebody in distress. What is the matter? It sounded right downstairs. I’ve called several times.”

“I’m sorry, Grandmother. I was just outside on the walk. It is a lovely moonlit night. I came as soon as I heard you. Mother and Father stepped over to call on the Blairs. Would you like me to come and sit with you?”

“Oh, no, only I’m sure I heard someone cry out. Where is Frank? I was sure I heard his voice.”

“Why yes, he was here just a minute or two ago,” answered Constance, trying to keep her voice steady and matter-of-fact. “He just went down the street with one of the boys. You probably heard me call him.”

“But it was before that!” said Grandmother anxiously. “I heard some sort of disturbance, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps you had been dreaming, dear, and got your dream mixed with the noises on the street. I’m sorry we wakened you. There is nothing the matter, really, Grandmother. Suppose you lie down and let me read to you a little while.”

“No,” said the old lady, lying down with a relieved air. “If you say everything is all right, why, I suppose it is, but I thought there was something terrible going on. You are sure the servants are all right?”

“Positive. Could I get you a glass of nice cold orange juice?”

“No, dear, run along. I’m all right. I’ll go to sleep now. Go on out in the moonlight again.”

But Constance lingered until she heard the old lady breathing softly and knew that she had dropped to sleep once more. Then she slipped out again and softly tiptoed down to the gate, almost running into Frank as he whirled in from the street with long strides.

“Oh, Frank!” exclaimed his sister. “I’ve been so worried about you. What has kept you so long?”

“Why, I hadta put the poor simp ta bed. He was too far gone to do it himself. Say, Connie, did he hurt you before I came? I knew he was a rotter but I didn’t think he would dare touch you right in your own house. I saw he was half-stewed when he came in. That’s why I rushed Dillie away in such a hurry and Bill Howarth. I didn’t want them to get onto it. I didn’t care to have them see what company my sister keeps. But I hurried right back in case you needed me, and it seems I didn’t come any too quick. Did he hurt you?”

But suddenly Constance could stand nothing more. She tried to answer but found speech impossible. She could only shake her head, and then without warning she threw her arms about her brother’s neck and burst into tears.

Greatly embarrassed, Frank put his two strong young arms around her and held her.

“You poor kid!” he murmured huskily. “I oughtta have stuck around.”

“Oh, no,” Constance managed to sob out. “It was all right, only I’m so glad you came when you did! He—he—was trying to force me to ride with him back to the club and dance with him, and I couldn’t see to get away from him!”

“The rotten little beast!” said Frank with a manly ring to his voice. “When he gets awake tomorra I’ll have a few little words with him. Don’cha worry, Connie, he’ll never do that again! Good night! I wish Seagrave would come home and let you see what it is to have a real man for a friend!”

And then suddenly Constance lifted her face smiling through her tears, remembering that it was not long now before Seagrave would come, but Frank didn’t know that, of course.

“I was all in,” she apologized shamedly. “Don’t mind me. I’m quite all right now. You’re a great brother and I’m so glad you’re mine!”

He patted her head awkwardly and said in a condescending tone, “Well, take a little advice from me, kid. Get yerself some real friends. I took your advice about Dillie and see what a friend I got! Lay off these guys you’ve been running around with and get yerself a real friend!”

To his utter surprise Constance seized his face in her two hands and gave him a warm, quick kiss and then fled laughing up the drive and on upstairs.

One day more and Seagrave would be here! After that what?

R
uddy Van Arden came over just after lunch the next day to apologize. He had not needed Frank’s scorching remarks to make him understand how he had transgressed. His own physical condition and his vague haunting memories told him enough of what he had done.

White and handsome with dark circles under his appealing eyes, humble and beautifully groomed, he appeared and waited for Constance to come downstairs.

Now Constance had spent the night examining herself and come to the conclusion that her whole life had been a dreadful mistake. She had reviewed and re-reviewed her brief career; she had passed her former associates before her weary mind and had found that with few exceptions they had been vapid idlers like herself. She had censured herself, her own acts, her influence, everything about herself, and was about as low down in her own estimation as one could well get.

If anything, her confession to her grandmother had only served to make her more conscious of her own failings. The approach of Seagrave and her coming interview as set in contrast with her brief contact with Ruddy last night became more and more humiliating as she saw more clearly that last night was but an outcome that might have been expected from the life they all had been leading and that she had to a certain extent joined in with and consented to that life.

Of course she had never been a drinker. She had been brought up with a feeling against liquor and had stood firmly on that and a few other points, but her influence had never been against it. She had been absolutely neutral about it. It was just a thing like smoking that she did not do, that was all. But she had laughed with the rest over breaking the law and joked about those who drank too much. She had been one with the people who did it and led the life with them as far as she chose to go. And last night when she went up to her room after the exciting event of the evening, what should she open to in the little Testament but that awful verse: “Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing.” Ruddy and Seagrave had been placed in startling opposition, and she, Constance Courtland, had found herself classed with Ruddy instead of Seagrave. Her conscience told her that it was so.

So it was a chastened Constance who came down to meet her former playmate and not the haughty, angry girl he had expected.

Ruddy could be the perfect gentleman when he chose, and just now he chose. He rose with humble, wistful mien and put his glib tongue through it tenderest paces. The devil himself in his role of angel of light could have produced no more appealing excuses.

Constance sat across the room from him, pale, quiet, reserved, and listened through to the end without a word. There were dark circles under her own eyes. She had an air of being very sad and very far away.

At last when he was entirely through and sat with humble attitude awaiting her expected forgiveness, she spoke. “Listen, Ruddy,” she said slowly, “I accept your apology and all that, of course, but there’s something more to it than that. I feel as if I’d been to blame somewhat, too.”

He stared, put up a quick protesting hand, and then a sudden hope sprang into his eyes. But Constance shook her head, reading his every expression as if it were a book.

“No, Ruddy, you don’t understand. I don’t mean that I drove you to drink by the way I treated you. I didn’t. You had no right in the world to think I belonged to you or was bound in any way to go anywhere with you or was ill treating you when I didn’t. I mean just this, that I never tried to save you from this thing that got you last night. Of course I didn’t drink myself and you knew I didn’t, but I laughed at you for drinking; I laughed with you about it; I played around with you and the crowd that did these things; and we just practically threw away the time trying to amuse ourselves; and I shouldn’t have been like that. Ruddy, the whole thing makes me sick!”

Ruddy stared at her.

“What’s the matter, Connie, you taking this all to heart? I’m all kinds of sorry I annoyed you that way last night. I’ll see that it never happens again. Give you my word of honor.”

Constance studied him sadly. “How much honor has a man for his word when he is drunk, Ruddy?”

“Aw, come now, Connie, you don’t have to rub it in!” The young man’s pale face flushed impatiently, and his mobile lips set unpleasantly. He got up and walked to the window, looking out. “I thought you’d be reasonable!” he gloomed, still with his back to her. “You must own it’s my first offense.”

“I’m not rubbing it in, Ruddy,” said Constance quickly. “You don’t understand. It was only one of a hundred little things that have been helping me to see myself these last few weeks. I’m just utterly disgusted with myself and the way I’ve been living. I never saw it so plainly as last night.”

“Gosh! Con, did it hit you that hard? Gosh, I’m sorry. Say, Connie, if I thought you cared that much for me, I’d even go on the water wagon. I could do it if you’d stick by me and give the other fellows the go-by. Say, Connie, let’s get married! I’d do any little old thing in the world if you would.”

Constance gasped and rose to her feet. “Don’t, Ruddy!” she said. “
Don’t!
You don’t understand at all. This isn’t a matter of getting married. I’m not choosing anyone to marry right now. But I’m sure of one thing. I would never want to marry anyone that was in danger of being the way you were last night. And until you can conquer a thing like that without any girl’s help, you wouldn’t be worth marrying. Listen, Ruddy. You and I have only been playing around together amusing ourselves, and I’ve just come to see that some of the playing was a mighty dangerous thing. That’s what I’m trying to get across to you. I’m just sorry I haven’t been a more helpful friend to you. I wasn’t even trying to help you. I was only trying to have a good time. I’ve been selfish and silly and foolish and everything else!”

Ruddy turned around and stared at her thoughtfully. “Well, if you’re selfish,” he said finally, “I wonder what the rest of us are.”

“We’ve been about alike, I guess,” said Constance with a sigh, “and I’ve been getting a vision of how foolish we are. I never realized that it could lead to—well—things like last night. I wish you’d cut it out, Ruddy, and be a man.”

“Will you be my girl if I do?” He asked the question doggedly.

She looked at him steadily, her face a little white, taking a long, deep breath for courage. Then she answered, “No, Ruddy. I couldn’t ever be that. No matter if last might had never happened I couldn’t be that, because I don’t care for you that way. But I’d be your friend if that would help!”

Ruddy looked at her sullenly, a long, angry look. Then he picked up his hat from the chair where he had slung it when he came in and turned on his heel, muttering, “Friend,
nothing
! I want a girl!” Then he was gone.