Now what are you going to say?"
She looked up at him teasingly, and Clyde realizing that he had a
very different type to Roberta to deal with, was puzzled and
flushed.
"I see," he said, seriously. "Every fellow tells you that, so you
don't want me to."
"Oh, no, not every fellow." Sondra was at once intrigued and
checkmated by the simplicity of his retort. "There are lots of
people who don't think I'm very pretty."
"Oh, don't they, though?" he returned quite gayly, for at once he
saw that she was not making fun of him. And yet he was almost
afraid to venture another compliment. Instead he cast about for
something else to say, and going back to the conversation at the
table concerning riding and tennis, he now asked: "You like
everything out-of-doors and athletic, don't you?"
"Oh, do I?" was her quick and enthusiastic response. "There isn't
anything I like as much, really. I'm just crazy about riding,
tennis, swimming, motor-boating, aqua-planing. You swim, don't
you?"
"Oh, sure," said Clyde, grandly.
"Do you play tennis?"
"Well, I've just taken it up," he said, fearing to admit that he
did not play at all.
"Oh, I just love tennis. We might play sometime together."
Clyde's spirits were completely restored by this. And tripping as
lightly as dawn to the mournful strains of a popular love song, she
went right on. "Bella Griffiths and Stuart and Grant and I play
fine doubles. We won nearly all the finals at Greenwood and
Twelfth Lake last summer. And when it comes to aqua-planing and
high diving you just ought to see me. We have the swiftest motor-
boat up at Twelfth Lake now--Stuart has. It can do sixty miles an
hour."
At once Clyde realized that he had hit upon the one subject that
not only fascinated, but even excited her. For not only did it
involve outdoor exercise, in which obviously she reveled, but also
the power to triumph and so achieve laurels in such phases of sport
as most interested those with whom she was socially connected. And
lastly, although this was something which he did not so clearly
realize until later, she was fairly dizzied by the opportunity all
this provided for frequent changes of costume and hence social
show, which was the one thing above all others that did interest
her. How she looked in a bathing suit--a riding or tennis or
dancing or automobile costume!
They danced on together, thrilled for the moment at least, by this
mutual recognition of the identity and reality of this interest
each felt for the other--a certain momentary warmth or enthusiasm
which took the form of genial and seeking glances into each other's
eyes, hints on the part of Sondra that, assuming that Clyde could
fit himself athletically, financially and in other ways for such a
world as this, it might be possible that he would be invited here
and there by her; broad and for the moment self-deluding notions on
his part that such could and would be the case, while in reality
just below the surface of his outward or seeming conviction and
assurance ran a deeper current of self-distrust which showed as a
decidedly eager and yet slightly mournful light in his eye, a
certain vigor and assurance in his voice, which was nevertheless
touched, had she been able to define it, with something that was
not assurance by any means.
"Oh, the dance is done," he said sadly.
"Let's try to make them encore," she said, applauding. The
orchestra struck up a lively tune and they glided off together once
more, dipping and swaying here and there--harmoniously abandoning
themselves to the rhythm of the music--like two small chips being
tossed about on a rough but friendly sea.
"Oh, I'm so glad to be with you again--to be dancing with you.
It's so wonderful... Sondra."
"But you mustn't call me that, you know. You don't know me well
enough."
"I mean Miss Finchley. But you're not going to be mad at me again,
are you?"
His face was very pale and sad again.
She noticed it.
"No. Was I mad at you? I wasn't really. I like you some...
when you're not sentimental."
The music stopped. The light tripping feet became walking ones.
"I'd like to see if it's still snowing outside, wouldn't you?" It
was Sondra asking.
"Oh, yes. Let's go."
Through the moving couples they hurried out a side-door to a world
that was covered thick with soft, cottony, silent snow. The air
was filled with it silently eddying down.
Chapter 27
The ensuing December days brought to Clyde some pleasing and yet
complicating and disturbing developments. For Sondra Finchley,
having found him so agreeable an admirer of hers, was from the
first inclined neither to forget nor neglect him. But, occupying
the rather prominent social position which she did, she was at
first rather dubious as to how to proceed. For Clyde was too poor
and decidedly too much ignored by the Griffiths themselves, even,
for her to risk any marked manifestation of interest in him.
And now, in addition to the primary motivating reason for all this--
her desire to irritate Gilbert by being friends with his cousin--
there was another. She liked him. His charm and his reverence for
her and her station flattered and intrigued her. For hers was a
temperament which required adulation in about the measure which
Clyde provided it--sincere and romantic adulation. And at the very
same time he represented physical as well as mental attributes
which were agreeable to her--amorousness without the courage at the
time, anyhow, to annoy her too much; reverence which yet included
her as a very human being; a mental and physical animation which
quite matched and companioned her own.
Hence it was decidedly a troublesome thought with Sondra how she
was to proceed with Clyde without attracting too much attention and
unfavorable comment to herself--a thought which kept her sly little
brain going at nights after she had retired. However, those who
had met him at the Trumbulls' were so much impressed by her
interest in him that evening and the fact that he had proved so
pleasing and affable, they in turn, the girls particularly, were
satisfied that he was eligible enough.
And in consequence, two weeks later, Clyde, searching for
inexpensive Christmas presents in Stark's for his mother, father,
sisters, brother and Roberta, and encountering Jill Trumbull doing
a little belated shopping herself, was invited by her to attend a
pre-Christmas dance that was to be given the next night by Vanda
Steele at her home in Gloversville. Jill herself was going with
Frank Harriet and she was not sure but that Sondra Finchley would
be there. Another engagement of some kind appeared to be in the
way, but still she was intending to come if she could. But her
sister Gertrude would be glad to have him escort her--a very polite
way of arranging for Gertrude. Besides, as she knew, if Sondra
heard that Clyde was to be there, this might induce her to desert
her other engagement.
"Tracy will be glad to stop for you in time," she went on, "or--"
she hesitated--"perhaps you'd like to come over for dinner with us
before we go. It'll be just the family, but we'd be delighted to
have you. The dancing doesn't begin till eleven."
The dance was for Friday night, and on that night Clyde had
arranged to be with Roberta because on the following day she was
leaving for a three-day-over-Christmas holiday visit to her
parents--the longest stretch of time thus far she had spent away
from him. And because, apart from his knowledge she had arranged
to present him with a new fountain pen and Eversharp pencil, she
had been most anxious that he should spend this last evening with
her, a fact which she had impressed upon him. And he, on his part,
had intended to make use of this last evening to surprise her with
a white-and-black toilet set.
But now, so thrilled was he at the possibility of a reencounter
with Sondra, he decided that he would cancel this last evening
engagement with Roberta, although not without some misgivings as to
the difficulty as well as the decency of it. For despite the fact
that he was now so lured by Sondra, nevertheless he was still
deeply interested in Roberta and he did not like to grieve her in
this way. She would look so disappointed, as he knew. Yet at the
same time so flattered and enthused was he by this sudden, if
tardy, social development that he could not now think of refusing
Jill. What? Neglect to visit the Steeles in Gloversville and in
company with the Trumbulls and without any help from the Griffiths,
either? It might be disloyal, cruel, treacherous to Roberta, but
was he not likely to meet Sondra?
In consequence he announced that he would go, but immediately
afterwards decided that he must go round and explain to Roberta,
make some suitable excuse--that the Griffiths, for instance, had
invited him for dinner. That would be sufficiently overawing and
compelling to her. But upon arriving, and finding her out, he
decided to explain the following morning at the factory--by note,
if necessary. To make up for it he decided he might promise to
accompany her as far as Fonda on Saturday and give her her present
then.
But on Friday morning at the factory, instead of explaining to her
with the seriousness and even emotional dissatisfaction which would
have governed him before, he now whispered: "I have to break that
engagement to-night, honey. Been invited to my uncle's, and I have
to go. And I'm not sure that I can get around afterwards. I'll
try if I get through in time. But I'll see you on the Fonda car
to-morrow if I don't. I've got something I want to give you, so
don't feel too bad. Just got word this morning or I'd have let you
know. You're not going to feel bad, are you?" He looked at her as
gloomily as possible in order to express his own sorrow over this.
But Roberta, her presents and her happy last evening with him put
aside in this casual way, and for the first time, too, in this
fashion, shook her head negatively, as if to say "Oh, no," but her
spirits were heavily depressed and she fell to wondering what this
sudden desertion of her at this time might portend. For, up to
this time, Clyde had been attentiveness itself, concealing his
recent contact with Sondra behind a veil of pretended, unmodified
affection which had, as yet, been sufficient to deceive her. It
might be true, as he said, that an unescapable invitation had come
up which necessitated all this. But, oh, the happy evening she had
planned! And now they would not be together again for three whole
days. She grieved dubiously at the factory and in her room
afterwards, thinking that Clyde might at least have suggested
coming around to her room late, after his uncle's dinner in order
that she might give him the presents. But his eventual excuse made
this day was that the dinner was likely to last too late. He could
not be sure. They had talked of going somewhere else afterwards.
But meanwhile Clyde, having gone to the Trumbulls', and later to
the Steeles', was flattered and reassured by a series of
developments such as a month before he would not have dreamed of
anticipating. For at the Steeles' he was promptly introduced to a
score of personalities there who, finding him chaperoned by the
Trumbulls and learning that he was a Griffiths, as promptly invited
him to affairs of their own--or hinted at events that were to come
to which he might be invited, so that at the close he found himself
with cordial invitations to attend a New Year's dance at the
Vandams' in Gloversville, as well as a dinner and dance that was to
be given Christmas Eve by the Harriets in Lycurgus, an affair to
which Gilbert and his sister Bella, as well as Sondra, Bertine and
others were invited.
And lastly, there was Sondra herself appearing on the scene at
about midnight in company with Scott Nicholson, Freddie Sells and
Bertine, at first pretending to be wholly unaware of his presence,
yet deigning at last to greet him with an, "Oh, hello, I didn't
expect to find you here." She was draped most alluringly in a deep
red Spanish shawl. But Clyde could sense from the first that she
was quite aware of his presence, and at the first available
opportunity he drew near to her and asked yearningly, "Aren't you
going to dance with me at all?"
"Why, of course, if you want me to. I thought maybe you had
forgotten me by now," she said mockingly.
"As though I'd be likely to forget you. The only reason I'm here
to-night is because I thought I might see you again. I haven't
thought of any one or anything else since I saw you last."
Indeed so infatuated was he with her ways and airs, that instead of
being irritated by her pretended indifference, he was all the more
attracted. And he now achieved an intensity which to her was quite
compelling. His eyelids narrowed and his eyes lit with a blazing
desire which was quite disturbing to see.
"My, but you can say the nicest things in the nicest way when you
want to." She was toying with a large Spanish comb in her hair for
the moment and smiling. "And you say them just as though you meant
them."
"Do you mean to say that you don't believe me, Sondra," he inquired
almost feverishly, this second use of her name thrilling her now as
much as it did him. Although inclined to frown on so marked a
presumption in his case, she let it pass because it was pleasing to
her.
"Oh, yes, I do. Of course," she said a little dubiously, and for
the first time nervously, where he was concerned. She was
beginning to find it a little hard to decipher her proper line of
conduct in connection with him, whether to repress him more or
less. "But you must say now what dance you want. I see some one
coming for me." And she held her small program up to him archly
and intriguingly. "You may have the eleventh. That's the next
after this."
"Is that all?"
"Well, and the fourteenth, then, greedy," she laughed into Clyde's
eyes, a laughing look which quite enslaved him.
Subsequently learning from Frank Harriet in the course of a dance
that Clyde had been invited to his house for Christmas Eve, as well
as that Jessica Phant had invited him to Utica for New Year's Eve,
she at once conceived of him as slated for real success and decided
that he was likely to prove less of a social burden than she had
feared. He was charming--there was no doubt of it. And he was so
devoted to her. In consequence, as she now decided, it might be
entirely possible that some of these other girls, seeing him
recognized by some of the best people here and elsewhere, would
become sufficiently interested, or drawn to him even, to wish to
overcome his devotion to her. Being of a vain and presumptuous
disposition herself, she decided that that should not be. Hence,
in the course of her second dance with Clyde, she said: "You've
been invited to the Harriets' for Christmas Eve, haven't you?"
"Yes, and I owe it all to you, too," he exclaimed warmly. "Are you
going to be there?"
"Oh, I'm awfully sorry. I am invited and I wish now that I was
going. But you know I arranged some time ago to go over to Albany
and then up to Saratoga for the holidays. I'm going to-morrow, but
I'll be back before New Year's. Some friends of Freddie's are
giving a big affair over in Schenectady New Year's Eve, though.
And your cousin Bella and my brother Stuart and Grant and Bertine
are going. If you'd like to go, you might go along with us over
there."
She had been about to say "me," but had changed it to "us." She
was thinking that this would certainly demonstrate her control over
him to all those others, seeing that it nullified Miss Phant's
invitation. And at once Clyde accepted, and with delight, since it
would bring him in contact with her again.
At the same time he was astonished and almost aghast over the fact
that in this casual and yet very intimate and definite way she was
planning for him to reencounter Bella, who would at once carry the
news of his going with her and these others to her family. And
what would not that spell, seeing that even as yet the Griffiths
had not invited him anywhere--not even for Christmas? For although
the fact of Clyde having been picked up by Sondra in her car as
well as later, that he had been invited to the Now and Then, had
come to their ears, still nothing had been done. Gilbert Griffiths
was wroth, his father and mother puzzled as to their proper course
but remaining inactive nonetheless.
But the group, according to Sondra, might remain in Schenectady
until the following morning, a fact which she did not trouble to
explain to Clyde at first. And by now he had forgotten that
Roberta, having returned from her long stay at Biltz by then, and
having been deserted by him over Christmas, would most assuredly be
expecting him to spend New Year's Eve with her. That was a
complication which was to dawn later. Now he only saw bliss in
Sandra's thought of him and at once eagerly and enthusiastically
agreed.
"But you know," she said cautiously, "you mustn't pay so very much
attention to me over there or here or anywhere or think anything of
it, if I don't to you. I may not be able to see so very much of
you if you do. I'll tell you about that sometime. You see my
father and mother are funny people. And so are some of my friends
here. But if you'll just be nice and sort of indifferent--you
know--I may be able to see quite a little of you this winter yet.
Do you see?"
Thrilled beyond words by this confession, which came because of his
too ardent approaches as he well knew, he looked at her eagerly and
searchingly.
"But you care for me a little, then, don't you?" he half-demanded,
half-pleaded, his eyes lit with that alluring light which so
fascinated her. And cautious and yet attracted, swayed sensually
and emotionally and yet dubious as to the wisdom of her course,
Sondra replied: "Well, I'll tell you. I do and I don't. That is,
I can't tell yet. I like you a lot. Sometimes I think I like you
more than others. You see we don't know each other very well yet.
But you'll come with me to Schenectady, though, won't you?"
"Oh, will I?"
"I'll write you more about that, or call you up. You have a
telephone, haven't you?"
He gave her the number.
"And if by any chance there's any change or I have to break the
engagement, don't think anything of it. I'll see you later--
somewhere, sure." She smiled and Clyde felt as though he were
choking. The mere thought of her being so frank with him, and
saying that she cared for him a lot, at times, was sufficient to
cause him to almost reel with joy. To think that this beautiful
girl was so anxious to include him in her life if she could--this
wonderful girl who was surrounded by so many friends and admirers
from which she could take her pick.
Chapter 28
Six-thirty the following morning. And Clyde, after but a single
hour's rest after his return from Gloversville, rising, his mind
full of mixed and troubled thoughts as to how to readjust his
affairs in connection with Roberta. She was going to Biltz to-day.
He had promised to go as far as Fonda. But now he did not want to
go. Of course he would have to concoct some excuse. But what?
Fortunately the day before he had heard Whiggam tell Liggett there
was to be a meeting of department heads after closing hours in
Smillie's office to-day, and that he was to be there. Nothing was
said to Clyde, since his department was included in Liggett's, but
now he decided that he could offer this as a reason and accordingly,
about an hour before noon, he dropped a note on her desk which read:
"HONEY: Awfully sorry, but just told that I have to be at a
meeting of department heads downstairs at three. That means I
can't go to Fonda with you, but will drop around to the room for a
few minutes right after closing. Have something I want to give
you, so be sure and wait. But don't feel too bad. It can't be
helped. See you sure when you come back Wednesday.
"CLYDE."
At first, since she could not read it at once, Roberta was pleased
because she imagined it contained some further favorable word about
the afternoon. But on opening it in the ladies' rest room a few
minutes afterwards, her face fell. Coupled as this was with the
disappointment of the preceding evening, when Clyde had failed to
appear, together with his manner of the morning which to her had
seemed self-absorbed, if not exactly distant, she began to wonder
what it was that was bringing about this sudden change. Perhaps he
could not avoid attending a meeting any more than he could avoid
going to his uncle's when he was asked. But the day before,
following his word to her that he could not be with her that
evening, his manner was gayer, less sober, than his supposed
affection in the face of her departure would warrant. After all he
had known before that she was to be gone for three days. He also
knew that nothing weighed on her more than being absent from him
any length of time.
At once her mood from one of hopefulness changed to one of deep
depression--the blues. Life was always doing things like this to
her. Here it was--two days before Christmas, and now she would
have to go to Biltz, where there was nothing much but such cheer as
she could bring, and all by herself, and after scarcely a moment
with him. She returned to her bench, her face showing all the
unhappiness that had suddenly overtaken her. Her manner was
listless and her movements indifferent--a change which Clyde
noticed; but still, because of his sudden and desperate feeling for
Sondra, he could not now bring himself to repent.
At one, the giant whistles of some of the neighboring factories
sounding the Saturday closing hours, both he and Roberta betook
themselves separately to her room. And he was thinking to himself
as he went what to say now. What to do? How in the face of this
suddenly frosted and blanched affection to pretend an interest he
did not feel--how, indeed, continue with a relationship which now,
as alive and vigorous as it might have been as little as fifteen
days before, appeared exceedingly anemic and colorless. It would
not do to say or indicate in any way that he did not care for her
any more--for that would be so decidedly cruel and might cause
Roberta to say what? Do what? And on the other hand, neither
would it do, in the face of his longings and prospects in the
direction of Sondra to continue in a type of approach and
declaration that was not true or sound and that could only tend to
maintain things as they were. Impossible! Besides, at the first
hint of reciprocal love on the part of Sondra, would he not be
anxious and determined to desert Roberta if he could? And why not?
As contrasted with one of Sondra's position and beauty, what had
Roberta really to offer him? And would it be fair in one of her
station and considering the connections and the possibilities that
Sondra offered, for her to demand or assume that he should continue
a deep and undivided interest in her as opposed to this other?
That would not really be fair, would it?
It was thus that he continued to speculate while Roberta, preceding
him to her room, was asking herself what was this now that had so
suddenly come upon her--over Clyde--this sudden indifference, this
willingness to break a pre-Christmas date, and when she was about
to leave for home and not to see him for three days and over
Christmas, too, to make him not wish to ride with her even so far
as Fonda. He might say that it was that meeting, but was it? She
could have waited until four if necessary, but something in his
manner had precluded that--something distant and evasive. Oh, what
did this all mean? And, so soon after the establishing of this
intimacy, which at first and up to now at least had seemed to be
drawing them indivisibly together. Did it spell a change--danger
to or the end even of their wonderful love dream? Oh, dear! And
she had given him so much and now his loyalty meant everything--her
future--her life.
She stood in her room pondering this new problem as Clyde arrived,
his Christmas package under his arm, but still fixed in his
determination to modify his present relationship with Roberta, if
he could--yet, at the same time anxious to put as inconsequential a
face on the proceeding as possible.
"Gee, I'm awfully sorry about this, Bert," he began briskly, his
manner a mixture of attempted gayety, sympathy and uncertainty.
"I hadn't an idea until about a couple of hours ago that they were
going to have this meeting. But you know how it is. You just
can't get out of a thing like this. You're not going to feel too
bad, are you?" For already, from her expression at the factory as
well as here, he had gathered that her mood was of the darkest.
"I'm glad I got the chance to bring this around to you, though," he
added, handing the gift to her. "I meant to bring it around last
night only that other business came up. Gee, I'm sorry about the
whole thing. Really, I am."
Delighted as she might have been the night before if this gift had
been given to her, Roberta now put the box on the table, all the
zest that might have been joined with it completely banished.
"Did you have a good time last night, dear?" she queried, curious
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