summer. Fred had already bought her a phonograph for Christmas.
In proof of their well-being, they had brought satisfactory
remembrances for all of the Aldens.
But Gabel had with him a copy of the Lycurgus Star, and at
breakfast, which because of the visitors this morning was unusually
late, was reading the news of that city, for in Lycurgus was
located the wholesale house from which he secured a portion of his
stock.
"Well, I see things are going full blast in your town, Bob," he
observed. "The Star here says the Griffiths Company have got an
order for 120,000 collars from the Buffalo trade alone. They must
be just coining money over there."
"There's always plenty to do in my department, I know that,"
replied Roberta, briskly. "We never seem to have any the less to
do whether business is good or bad. I guess it must be good all
the time."
"Pretty soft for those people. They don't have to worry about
anything. Some one was telling me they're going to build a new
factory in Ilion to manufacture shirts alone. Heard anything about
that down there?"
"Why, no, I haven't. Maybe it's some other company."
"By the way, what's the name of that young man you said was the
head of your department? Wasn't he a Griffiths, too?" he asked
briskly, turning to the editorial page, which also carried news of
local Lycurgus society.
"Yes, his name is Griffiths--Clyde Griffiths. Why?"
"I think I saw his name in here a minute ago. I just wanted to see
if it ain't the same fellow. Sure, here you are. Ain't this the
one?" He passed the paper to Roberta with his finger on an item
which read:
"Miss Vanda Steele, of Gloversville, was hostess at an informal
dance held at her home in that city Friday night, at which were
present several prominent members of Lycurgus society, among them
the Misses Sondra Finchiey, Bertine Cranston, Jill and Gertrude
Trumbull and Perley Haynes, and Messrs. Clyde Griffiths, Frank
Harriet, Tracy Trumbull, Grant Cranston and Scott Nicholson. The
party, as is usual whenever the younger group assembles, did not
break up until late, the Lycurgus members motoring back just before
dawn. It is already rumored that most of this group will gather at
the Ellerslies', in Schenectady, New Year's Eve for another event
of this same gay nature."
"He seems to be quite a fellow over there," Gabel remarked, even as
Roberta was reading.
The first thing that occurred to Roberta on reading this item was
that it appeared to have little, if anything, to do with the group
which Clyde had said was present. In the first place there was no
mention of Myra or Bella Griffiths. On the other hand, all those
names with which, because of recent frequent references on the part
of Clyde, she was becoming most familiar were recorded as present.
Sondra Finchley, Bertine Cranston, the Trumbull girls, Perley
Haynes. He had said it had not been very interesting, and here it
was spoken of as gay and he himself was listed for another
engagement of the same character New Year's Eve, when, as a matter
of fact, she had been counting on being with him. He had not even
mentioned this New Year's engagement. And perhaps he would now
make some last minute excuse for that, as he had for the previous
Friday evening. Oh, dear! What did all this mean, anyhow!
Immediately what little romantic glamour this Christmas homecoming
had held for her was dissipated. She began to wonder whether Clyde
really cared for her as he had pretended. The dark state to which
her incurable passion for him had brought her now pained her
terribly. For without him and marriage and a home and children,
and a reasonable place in such a local world as she was accustomed
to, what was there for a girl like her in the world? And apart
from his own continuing affection for her--if it was really
continuing, what assurance had she, in the face of such incidents
as these, that he would not eventually desert her? And if this was
true, here was her future, in so far as marriage with any one else
was concerned, compromised or made impossible, maybe, and with no
reliance to be placed on him.
She fell absolutely silent. And although Gabel inquired: "That's
the fellow, isn't it?" she arose without answering and said:
"Excuse me, please, a moment. I want to get something out of my
bag," and hurried once more to her former room upstairs. Once
there she sat down on the bed, and, resting her chin in her hands,
a habit when troublesome or necessary thoughts controlled her,
gazed at the floor.
Where was Clyde now?
What one, if any, of those girls did he take to the Steele party?
Was he very much interested in her? Until this very day, because
of Clyde's unbroken devotion to her, she had not even troubled to
think there could be any other girl to whom his attentions could
mean anything.
But now--now!
She got up and walked to the window and looked out on that same
orchard where as a girl so many times she had been thrilled by the
beauty of life. The scene was miserably bleak and bare. The thin,
icy arms of the trees--the gray, swaying twigs--a lone, rustling
leaf somewhere. And snow. And wretched outbuildings in need of
repair. And Clyde becoming indifferent to her. And the thought
now came to her swiftly and urgently that she must not stay here
any longer than she could help--not even this day, if possible.
She must return to Lycurgus and be near Clyde, if no more than to
persuade him to his old affection for her, or if not that, then by
her presence to prevent him from devoting himself too wholly to
these others. Decidedly, to go away like this, even for the
holidays, was not good. In her absence he might desert her
completely for another girl, and if so, then would it not be her
fault? At once she pondered as to what excuse she could make in
order to return this day. But realizing that in view of all these
preliminary preparations this would seem inexplicably unreasonable,
to her mother most of all, she decided to endure it as she had
planned until Christmas afternoon, then to return, never to leave
for so long a period again.
But ad interim, all her thoughts were on how and in what way she
could make more sure, if at all, of Clyde's continued interest and
social and emotional support, as well as marriage in the future.
Supposing he had lied to her, how could she influence him, if at
all, not to do so again? How to make him feel that lying between
them was not right? How to make herself securely first in his
heart against the dreams engendered by the possible charms of
another?
How?
Chapter 30
But Roberta's return to Lycurgus and her room at the Gilpins'
Christmas night brought no sign of Clyde nor any word of
explanation. For in connection with the Griffiths in the meantime
there had been a development relating to all this which, could she
or Clyde have known, would have interested both not a little. For
subsequent to the Steele dance that same item read by Roberta fell
under the eyes of Gilbert. He was seated at the breakfast table
the Sunday morning after the party and was about to sip from a cup
of coffee when he encountered it. On the instant his teeth snapped
about as a man might snap his watch lid, and instead of drinking he
put his cup down and examined the item with more care. Other than
his mother there was no one at the table or in the room with him,
but knowing that she, more than any of the others, shared his views
in regard to Clyde, he now passed the paper over to her.
"Look at who's breaking into society now, will you?" he admonished
sharply and sarcastically, his eyes radiating the hard and
contemptuous opposition he felt. "We'll be having him up here
next!"
"Who?" inquired Mrs. Griffiths, as she took the paper and examined
the item calmly and judicially, yet not without a little of
outwardly suppressed surprise when she saw the name. For although
the fact of Clyde's having been picked up by Sondra in her car
sometime before and later been invited to dinner at the Trumbulls',
had been conveyed to the family sometime before, still a society
notice in The Star was different. "Now I wonder how it was that he
came to be invited to that?" meditated Mrs. Griffiths who was
always conscious of her son's mood in regard to all this.
"Now, who would do it but that little Finchley snip, the little
smart aleck?" snapped Gilbert. "She's got the idea from somewhere--
from Bella for all I know--that we don't care to have anything to
do with him, and she thinks this is a clever way to hit back at me
for some of the things I've done to her, or that she thinks I've
done. At any rate, she thinks I don't like her, and that's right,
I don't. And Bella knows it, too. And that goes for that little
Cranston show-off, too. They're both always running around with
her. They're a set of show-offs and wasters, the whole bunch, and
that goes for their brothers, too--Grant Cranston and Stew
Finchley--and if something don't go wrong with one or another of
that bunch one of these days, I miss my guess. You mark my word!
They don't do a thing, the whole lot of them, from one year's end
to the other but play around and dance and run here and there, as
though there wasn't anything else in the world for them to do. And
why you and Dad let Bella run with 'em as much as she does is more
than I can see."
To this his mother protested. It was not possible for her to
entirely estrange Bella from one portion of this local social group
and direct her definitely toward the homes of certain others. They
all mingled too freely. And she was getting along in years and had
a mind of her own.
Just the same his mother's apology and especially in the face of
the publication of this item by no means lessened Gilbert's
opposition to Clyde's social ambitions and opportunities. What!
That poor little moneyless cousin of his who had committed first
the unpardonable offense of looking like him and, second, of coming
here to Lycurgus and fixing himself on this very superior family.
And after he had shown him all too plainly, and from the first,
that he personally did not like him, did not want him, and if left
to himself would never for so much as a moment endure him.
"He hasn't any money," he declared finally and very bitterly to his
mother, "and he's hanging on here by the skin of his teeth as it
is. And what for? If he is taken up by these people, what can he
do? He certainly hasn't the money to do as they do, and he can't
get it. And if he could, his job here wouldn't let him go anywhere
much, unless some one troubled to pay his way. And how he is going
to do his work and run with that crowd is more than I know. That
bunch is on the go all the time."
Actually he was wondering whether Clyde would be included from now
on, and if so, what was to be done about it. If he were to be
taken up in this way, how was he, or the family, either, to escape
from being civil to him? For obviously, as earlier and subsequent
developments proved, his father did not choose to send him away.
Indeed, subsequent to this conversation, Mrs. Griffiths had laid
the paper, together with a version of Gilbert's views before her
husband at this same breakfast table. But he, true to his previous
mood in regard to Clyde, was not inclined to share his son's
opinion. On the contrary, he seemed, as Mrs. Griffiths saw it, to
look upon the development recorded by the item as a justification
in part of his own original estimate of Clyde.
"I must say," he began, after listening to his wife to the end, "I
can't see what's wrong with his going to a party now and then, or
being invited here and there even if he hasn't any money. It looks
more like a compliment to him and to us than anything else. I know
how Gil feels about him. But it rather looks to me as though
Clyde's just a little better than Gil thinks he is. At any rate, I
can't and I wouldn't want to do anything about it. I've asked him
to come down here, and the least I can do is to give him an
opportunity to better himself. He seems to be doing his work all
right. Besides, how would it look if I didn't?"
And later, because of some additional remarks on the part of
Gilbert to his mother, he added: "I'd certainly rather have him
going with some of the better people than some of the worse ones--
that's one thing sure. He's neat and polite and from all I hear at
the factory does his work well enough. As a matter of fact, I
think it would have been better if we had invited him up to the
lake last summer for a few days anyhow, as I suggested. As it is
now, if we don't do something pretty soon, it will look as though
we think he isn't good enough for us when the other people here
seem to think he is. If you'll take my advice, you'll have him up
here for Christmas or New Year's, anyhow, just to show that we
don't think any less of him than our friends do."
This suggestion, once transferred to Gilbert by his mother, caused
him to exclaim: "Well, I'll be hanged! All right, only don't
think I'm going to lay myself out to be civil to him. It's a
wonder, if Father thinks he's so able, that he don't make a real
position for him somewhere."
Just the same, nothing might have come of this had it not been that
Bella, returning from Albany this same day, learned via contacts
and telephone talks with Sondra and Bertine of the developments in
connection with Clyde. Also that he had been invited to accompany
them to the New Year's Eve dance at the Ellerslies' in Schenectady,
Bella having been previously scheduled to make a part of this group
before Clyde was thought of.
This sudden development, reported by Bella to her mother, was of
sufficient import to cause Mrs. Griffiths as well as Samuel, if not
Gilbert, later to decide to make the best of a situation which
obviously was being forced upon them and themselves invite Clyde
for dinner--Christmas Day--a sedate affair to which many others
were bid. For this as they now decided would serve to make plain
to all and at once that Clyde was not being as wholly ignored as
some might imagine. It was the only reasonable thing to do at this
late date. And Gilbert, on hearing this, and realizing that in
this instance he was checkmated, exclaimed sourly: "Oh, all right.
Invite him if you want to--if that's the way you and Dad feel about
it. I don't see any real necessity for it even now. But you fix
it to suit yourself. Constance and I are going over to Utica for
the afternoon, anyhow, so I couldn't be there even if I wanted to."
He was thinking of what an outrageous thing it was that a girl whom
he disliked as much as he did Sondra could thus via her determination
and plottings thrust his own cousin on him and he be unable to
prevent it. And what a beggar Clyde must be to attempt to attach
himself in this way when he knew that he was not wanted! What sort
of a youth was he, anyhow?
And so it was that on Monday morning Clyde had received another
letter from the Griffiths, this time signed by Myra, asking him to
have dinner with them at two o'clock Christmas Day. But, since
this at that time did not seem to interfere with his meeting
Roberta Christmas night at eight, he merely gave himself over to
extreme rejoicing in regard to it all now, and at last he was
nearly as well placed here, socially, as any one. For although he
had no money, see how he was being received--and by the Griffiths,
too--among all the others. And Sondra taking so great an interest
in him, actually talking and acting as though she might be ready to
fall in love. And Gilbert checkmated by his social popularity.
What would you say to that? It testified, as he saw it now, that
at least his relatives had not forgotten him or that, because of
his recent success in other directions, they were finding it
necessary to be civil to him--a thought that was the same as the
bays of victory to a contestant. He viewed it with as much
pleasure almost as though there had never been any hiatus at all.
Chapter 31
Unfortunately, however, the Christmas dinner at the Griffiths',
which included the Starks and their daughter Arabella, Mr. and Mrs.
Wynant, who in the absence of their daughter Constance with Gilbert
were dining with the Griffiths, the Arnolds, Anthonys, Harriets,
Taylors and others of note in Lycurgus, so impressed and even
overawed Clyde that although five o'clock came and then six, he was
incapable of breaking away or thinking clearly and compellingly of
his obligation to Roberta. Even when, slightly before six, the
greater portion of those who had been thus cheerfully entertained
began rising and making their bows and departing (and when he, too,
should have been doing the same and thinking of his appointment
with Roberta), being accosted by Violet Taylor, who was part of the
younger group, and who now began talking of some additional
festivities to be held that same evening at the Anthonys', and who
added most urgently, "You're coming with us, aren't you? Sure you
are," he at once acquiesced, although his earlier promise to
Roberta forced the remembrance that she was probably already back
and expecting him. But still he had time even now, didn't he?
Yet, once at the Anthonys', and talking and dancing with various
girls, the obligation faded. But at nine he began worrying a
little. For by this time she must be in her room and wondering
what had become of him and his promise. And on Christmas night,
too. And after she had been away three days.
Inwardly he grew more and more restless and troubled, the while
outwardly he maintained that same high spirit that characterized
him throughout the afternoon. Fortunately for his own mood, this
same group, having danced and frolicked every night for the past
week until almost nervously exhausted, it now unanimously and
unconsciously yielded to weariness and at eleven thirty, broke up.
And after having escorted Bella Griffiths to her door, Clyde
hurried around to Elm Street to see if by any chance Roberta was
still awake.
As he neared the Gilpins' he perceived through the snow-covered
bushes and trees the glow of her single lamp. And for the time
being, troubled as to what he should say--how excuse himself for
this inexplicable lapse--he paused near one of the large trees that
bordered the street, debating with himself as to just what he would
say. Would he insist that he had again been to the Griffiths', or
where? For according to his previous story he had only been there
the Friday before. In the months before when he had no social
contacts, but was merely romanticizing in regard to them, the
untruths he found himself telling her caused him no twinges of any
kind. They were not real and took up no actual portion of his
time, nor did they interfere with any of his desired contacts with
her. But now in the face of the actuality and the fact that these
new contacts meant everything to his future, as he saw it, he
hesitated. His quick conclusion was to explain his absence this
evening by a second invitation which had come later, also by
asseverating that the Griffiths being potentially in charge of his
material welfare, it was becoming more and more of a duty rather
than an idle, evasive pleasure to desert her in this way at their
command. Could he help it? And with this half-truth permanently
fixed in his mind, he crossed the snow and gently tapped at her
window.
At once the light was extinguished and a moment later the curtain
lifted. Then Roberta, who had been mournfully brooding, opened the
door and admitted him, having previously lit a candle as was her
custom in order to avoid detection as much as possible, and at once
he began in a whisper:
"Gee, but this society business here is getting to be the dizzy
thing, honey. I never saw such a town as this. Once you go with
these people one place to do one thing, they always have something
else they want you to do. They're on the go all the time. When I
went there Friday (he was referring to his lie about having gone to
the Griffiths'), I thought that would be the last until after the
holidays, but yesterday, and just when I was planning to go
somewhere else, I got a note saying they expected me to come there
again to-day for dinner sure."
"And to-day when I thought the dinner would begin at two," he
continued to explain, "and end in time for me to be around here by
eight like I said, it didn't start until three and only broke up a
few minutes ago. Isn't that the limit? And I just couldn't get
away for the last four hours. How've you been, honey? Did you
have a good time? I hope so. Did they like the present I gave
you?"
He rattled off these questions, to which she made brief and
decidedly terse replies, all the time looking at him as much as to
say, "Oh, Clyde, how can you treat me like this?"
But Clyde was so much interested in his own alibi, and how to
convince Roberta of the truth of it, that neither before nor after
slipping off his coat, muffler and gloves and smoothing back his
hair, did he look at her directly, or even tenderly, or indeed do
anything to demonstrate to her that he was truly delighted to see
her again. On the contrary, he was so fidgety and in part
flustered that despite his past professions and actions she could
feel that apart from being moderately glad to see her again he was
more concerned about himself and his own partially explained
defection than he was about her. And although after a few moments
he took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers, still, as on
Saturday, she could feel that he was only partially united to her
in spirit. Other things--the affairs that had kept him from her on
Friday and to-night--were disturbing his thoughts and hers.
She looked at him, not exactly believing and yet not entirely
wishing to disbelieve him. He might have been at the Griffiths',
as he said, and they might have detained him. And yet he might not
have, either. For she could not help recalling that on the
previous Saturday he had said he had been there Friday and the
paper on the other hand had stated that he was in Gloversville.
But if she questioned him in regard to these things now, would he
not get angry and lie to her still more? For after all she could
not help thinking that apart from his love for her she had no real
claim on him. But she could not possibly imagine that he could
change so quickly.
"So that was why you didn't come to-night, was it?" she asked, with
more spirit and irritation than she had ever used with him before.
"I thought you told me sure you wouldn't let anything interfere,"
she went on, a little heavily.
"Well, so I did," he admitted. "And I wouldn't have either, except
for the letter I got. You know I wouldn't let any one but my uncle
interfere, but I couldn't turn them down when they asked me to come
there on Christmas Day. It's too important. It wouldn't look
right, would it, especially when you weren't going to be here in
the afternoon?"
The manner and tone in which he said this conveyed to Roberta more
clearly than anything that he had ever said before how significant
he considered this connection with his relatives to be and how
unimportant anything she might value in regard to this relationship
was to him. It came to her now that in spite of all his enthusiasm
and demonstrativeness in the first stages of this affair, possibly
she was much more trivial in his estimation than she had seemed to
herself. And that meant that her dreams and sacrifices thus far
had been in vain. She became frightened.
"Well, anyhow," she went on dubiously in the face of this, "don't
you think you might have left a note here, Clyde, so I would have
got it when I got in?" She asked this mildly, not wishing to
irritate him too much.
"But didn't I just tell you, honey, I didn't expect to be so late.
I thought the thing would all be over by six, anyhow."
"Yes--well--anyhow--I know--but still--"
Her face wore a puzzled, troubled, nervous look, in which was
mingled fear, sorrow, depression, distrust, a trace of resentment
and a trace of despair, all of which, coloring and animating her
eyes, which were now fixed on him in round orblike solemnity,
caused him to suffer from a sense of having misused and demeaned
her not a little. And because her eyes seemed to advertise this,
he flushed a dark red flush that colored deeply his naturally very
pale cheeks. But without appearing to notice this or lay any
stress on it in any way at the time, Roberta added after a moment:
"I notice that The Star mentioned that Gloversville party Sunday,
but it didn't say anything about your cousins being over there.
Were they?"
For the first time in all her questioning of him, she asked this as
though she might possibly doubt him--a development which Clyde had
scarcely anticipated in connection with her up to this time, and
more than anything else, it troubled and irritated him.
"Of course they were," he replied falsely. "Why do you want to ask
a thing like that when I told you they were?"
"Well, dear, I don't mean anything by it. I only wanted to know.
But I did notice that it mentioned all those other people from
Lycurgus that you are always talking about, Sondra Finchley,
Bertine Cranston. You know you never mentioned anybody but the
Trumbulls."
Her tone tended to make him bristle and grow cross, as she saw.
"Yes, I saw that, too, but it ain't so. If they were there, I
didn't see them. The papers don't always get everything right."
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