The Flower Brides (41 page)

Helen was watching her sharply.

“Now, if you are sane again,” she said, keeping a suspicious glance on her, “I’ll tell you the rest. We’re going down to the shore tonight, and I expect these changes to be all made by the time I come back. I want you to oversee them, and you’d better call up a man to move things. He ought to come early in the morning. It ought not to take long. I’ve had my own things sent on. They may get here tomorrow by van, and they should be put right in the rooms, to save moving twice. I’ve marked everything, which go in the east room and which in the west. Of course, I wasn’t counting on the furniture in your room being so good, but you might have what I’ve marked for your room put in the middle guest room. And the furniture in there you might sell to a secondhand man, unless there’s something you want to save. I always hated that in the days when I visited here and had to sleep in that room. It gave me the horrors, so I’d like it to be disposed of out of my sight by the time I get back. Now, do you understand? You sit there like a sphinx and don’t say a word! Have you heard anything I’ve said or haven’t you?”

Diana summoned the stiff muscles of her throat to utter three words: “I have heard,” and sat quietly watching her tormentor.

“Well, see that you carry out my orders, then,” said Helen, flinging up her chin imperiously. “I want this all done and your things entirely out of the way by the time I get back! Now, do you understand?”

“I understand,” said Diana again gravely, watching Helen with a steady gaze. She was mistress of herself now, and her strength was coming back to her again.

“Well then, see that you attend to everything.” Helen tossed her head and laughed lightly, her laughter evidently intended to reach the hall below where Diana could hear her father entering from the front door. Helen trilled another light laugh and ran briskly down the stairs. But before she reached the last step, Diana heard her pause a moment and then turn and run back up again.

“Diana,” she challenged, “were those flowers down in the living room sent to me, or did you buy them?”

“They were sent to
me
last night,” answered Diana, still in that steady, grave tone.

“Oh really?” Helen’s voice expressed mingled incredulity and envy.

“You can have them if you like,” went on Diana in a voice from which all expression seemed to have been extracted. “I don’t care anything about them.”

“Oh
really
?” said Helen again, this time with a sting in her voice. “You think I would care for your cast-off flowers? No thank you, I can get plenty of my own. And by the way, better take yours upstairs after this so there won’t be any mistake.”

Diana sat still and let the disagreeable words, uttered in a silvery voice for the benefit of the listener in the lower hall, roll away from her. Her whole sensitive being quivered at their impact, but she did not reply.

Then, just as the new lady of the house turned to go downstairs again, a shadow loomed below her and Maggie appeared, her countenance like a thundercloud.

“Is Miss Diana up the stair?” she demanded haughtily as if she were the mistress and the other the maid.

“I believe she is,” said the new Mrs. Disston coldly. “What do you want?”

“There’s a young gentleman down the stair to see her!” announced the Scotch woman.

“Oh!” said Mrs. Disston with a note of curiosity in her voice. “Well, go up and tell her.” Then lightly as a feather she skipped downstairs and peered into the big living room where Bobby Watkins sat impatiently on the edge of a chair awaiting Diana.

He rose eagerly as Mrs. Disston parted the doorway curtains and faced him, and then stepped back with an exclamation of dismay.

“Oh, it’s
you
, is it?” she said and then backed away from him rudely without further words.

Bobby flushed angrily and stepped out into the hall after her, but Mrs. Disston was already halfway up the stairs again.

“Diana!” she called in a clear, sweet voice that was quite audible both upstairs and down in the living room. “It’s the fat one, dear. Don’t keep him waiting, he’s already quite impatient.”

By which Diana knew that her father must have stepped outside again, for Helen would never have spoke so in front of him.

The girl’s face flushed angrily, and she felt a passing pity for Bobby; therefore, she did not wait to smooth her hair nor dash cold water on her face to take away the stricken look. She rose and hurried downstairs with a set look upon her lips and a light of battle in her eyes. She would not heed the annoyances that were meant for herself, but in so far as she could she would try to make up to Bobby for the rudeness that had been dealt out to him. Oh, if her father knew what had happened, it would open his eyes. But alas, it was too late! Poor Father, when he should finally find out what sort of woman he had married!

“How did she get here again?” asked Bobby wrathfully, as Diana hurried into the room a trifle breathless.

“Sh!” she said under her breath.

“Why should I hush? She didn’t hesitate to shout her opinion of me all over the house. She’s a pest! Why does your father let her come here?”

“Don’t, please!” said Diana hurriedly. “You—I’ll have to explain. Come over to the other end of the room where we can’t be overheard.”

“No!” said Bobby authoritatively. “Come outside! She’d be snooping round the corner!”

“Oh, Bobby, please—!” Diana begged. “You mustn’t! You don’t understand!”

“No! I’m afraid I don’t understand!” said Bobby arrogantly. “Even if she is your guest, that doesn’t give her the right to be protected in her insolence. Come on outside!” And Bobby led Diana out the front door and down the drive.

“I’ve left my car out in the street,” he said as he walked her away by the sheer force of his will. “We’ll get in the car and talk. I didn’t bring it up the drive because I wanted to find out how the land lay before I was announced to your father, if he was here. A car in the driveway always announces one’s presence too quickly.”

“No, Bobby,” Diana stopped on the path and tried to pull her arm away, but he held her fast.

“I can’t go out to your car,” she said. “I have to be here now. Father has just come home, and he’s going away again. I can only stay a minute to explain to you, and then I must go in. Let go of my arm, please, you are hurting me.”

“Well then, stop trying to pull away!” ordered Bobby wrathfully. “I’ve stood your putting me off again and again, but I’m not going to stand your having to go in to that woman when I’ve come to visit. And besides, I’ve got something to tell you!”

“But you must listen to me first, Bobby!”

Diana’s tone was quiet and collected. She turned and walked by his side but drew her arm away from his. “You’ve got to know that Helen has a right to stay at our house now. She is my father’s wife!”

Diana felt as she said it that she was talking in a dream. It couldn’t be true that it had really happened and she was making it known to the world! It wrenched her heart to think it, and she was not half listening to Bobby. He had stopped short in the path and was staring at her.

“Diana! You don’t mean that your father has been such a fool! You’re trying to put something over on me.”

“It’s true, Bobby,” said Diana sadly, “and I wish you wouldn’t talk about it. It’s hard enough to bear without hearing—what you think about it.”

“But, Diana, it can’t be possible that your father would do a thing like that to you.”

“Please don’t!” said Diana wearily. “He thought he was doing the best for me. He really did. I’m sure he thought so!”

“He couldn’t!” said Bobby righteously. “He simply couldn’t!”

Diana pulled away, shrinking from his words as if they had been blows.

“I must go back, Bobby. I really must. My father will want me.”

“Let him want awhile!” shouted Bobby arrogantly. “You come on down to that group of trees. I’ve got to talk to you. Let’s get out of sight of the house. I’ve something to say, and I don’t want to say it before the whole world.”

“Well, for only just a minute,” yielded Diana hesitantly.

He drew her swiftly along and they were soon within the shelter of the thick growth of trees that hid the stone cottage from the driveway. Diana realized as they halted that she was standing almost directly in the spot from which she had picked up the carnation that morning. She glanced down, and there a few feet from where she stood a white something caught her eye, a delicate flower face looking up to her! Was she seeing things?

She passed her hand over her weary eyes to brush imagination away and looked again. Yes, there it really was, or seemed to be! Only a frail moonbeam or two penetrated the darkness, but that was certainly a flower! Could she be mistaken? Perhaps it was only a stray bit of paper. What a fool she was! Always imagining another flower. Silly! It wasn’t time for a flower to be there yet. They always must have been placed in the early morning or else they would not look so fresh. And she had already had one today. It was only paper, of course. But after Bobby was gone she would come back by herself and see! She certainly would!

“You are not listening to me!” charged Bobby savagely. “I am asking you to marry me. To go away with me now and get married, and then I can take you away from that woman! Your father is no longer to be considered. He has spoiled your home, and now I am asking you to go away with me tonight, at once! You do not need to go back for anything. I can buy you a hat and whatever else you need. Let them wonder where you are! Let them search for you if they want you. Telephone and tell them they have driven you away!”

Appalled at his torrent of words, Diana pulled away.

“Oh, don’t, Bobby! I am so tired and troubled. I can’t think now. I must get rested. I couldn’t go away!”

“That’s silly, Diana. There’ll be plenty of time to rest after we’re married. We can run right down to the rectory and get it over with. I’ll attend to the license. I’ve got a friend—! I can fix that all up afterward. Then I’ll take you to a hotel in the city and you can rest all you want to, and in the morning we’ll go off on a honeymoon!”

He reached out and caught her two hands and pulled her close to him, folding his cushiony arms around her, his hot breath was upon her face, and his thick, moist lips suddenly pressed possessively upon hers, as if he would draw her very soul from her body in a kiss that suddenly became to her repulsive, unclean. His eyes looking into hers in the moonlight had the selfish, beastly look of a cannibal about to sate his cruel desire for human blood.

Diana shrank back in horror from the touch of his lips, but the lips followed her. She struggled and gasped and uttered a half-stifled scream. Her arms were pinioned to his chest, held in a viselike grasp of one fat hand, and the other hand was behind her head holding her lips to his as if he could not get enough. Terror and loathing filled her soul as she tried to get her hands free.

“I love you, Diana! I love you!” The hot words were breathed fiercely.

Diana managed to turn her face to the side for an instant.

“I hate you!” she gasped! “I
hate
you! If that is love, I want none of it!” And then his heavy face came down upon hers again, and he held her head so that she could not struggle free, while he kissed her again and again, pressing her close in his arms.

It was then she gave a real scream!

“Can I be of any assistance?” A voice spoke close behind her, and a strong blow came down on the inner curve of Bobby’s elbow, making it fall away powerless for the instant.

“Who the devil are you?” roared Bobby, dropping his other arm from around Diana and turning to face the interloper. “What business have you got interfering?”

But Diana, free for the instant, turned and fled!

D
iana arrived back at the house with a face as white as chalk and eyes that were dark with terror. Her recent experience had overtopped all climaxes in her life and had almost made her forget for the time being the tragedy in her home. It seemed to her that the covering of decency had been stripped from life and love and everything worthwhile was left stark and naked. Was love like that, and could caresses turn to so hideous a thing? She never wanted to see or hear of Bobby Watkins again.

Helen stared at her as she entered the door, narrowing her eyes and searching her face.

“Why the tragedy?” she asked flippantly.

Diana ignored her remark.

“Where is my father?” she asked. Her voice was steady and grave, as if she had a serious matter on her mind.

Helen’s eyes grew belligerent. “He’s in the library calling up a taxi. We’re going away at once, so you needn’t think you’re going to have time to talk with him. You might as well learn to cut out any long conferences. I don’t like them. I remember how you used to do, and I don’t like it, understand?”

“Oh yes?” said Diana, coolly giving her antagonist a level look and walking slowly up the stairs.

Diana went to the front window in her room and looked out into the darkness. The lights in the cottage windows glimmered in a friendly way, but Diana only shuddered as she watched them. Once it came to her to wonder who it had been that came and stood behind her and rescued her from those terrible iron-muscled arms and those fiendish, moist, fat lips? Could it have been some passerby on the street who had heard her scream? Bobby Watkins! How had she ever fancied it might be possible for her to find refuge in marriage with Bobby Watkins even to escape from her present tragic situation? To think of having him around every day, with the right to kiss her—that way! How terrible!

But her meditations were interrupted by her father’s imperious knock at her door. “I’ve got to go now, Diana. I came up to—to—! Diana, have you nothing to say to me? You certainly have been acting in a strange way. I cannot understand it.”

Diana turned and faced him, and again the sternness of his tone seemed to overwhelm her so that she could not think nor speak, and her lips and chin were trembling in her effort to control the tears. Never, never since she was a little child and had disobeyed his express command not to take the ink bottle down off the desk and had spilled ink all over Mother’s new oriental rug had she ever heard her father speak to her in a tone like that. It seemed she could not bear it. It seemed that it was something irreparable!