"but i can't think," said ellie vanderlyn earnestly, "why youdon't announce your engagement before waiting for your divorce.
people are beginning to do it, i assure you--it's so muchsafer!"mrs. vanderlyn, on the way back from st. moritz to england, hadpaused in paris to renew the depleted wardrobe which, only twomonths earlier, had filled so many trunks to bursting. otherladies, flocking there from all points of the globe for the samepurpose, disputed with her the louis xvi suites of the nouveauluxe, the pink-candled tables in the restaurant, the hours fortrying-on at the dressmakers'; and just because they were somany, and all feverishly fighting to get the same things at thesame time, they were all excited, happy and at ease. it was themost momentous period of the year: the height of the "dressmakers' season."mrs. vanderlyn had run across susy lansing at one of the rue dela paix openings, where rows of ladies wan with heat and emotionsat for hours in rapt attention while spectral apparitions inincredible raiment tottered endlessly past them on aching feet.
distracted from the regal splendours of a chinchilla cloak bythe sense that another lady was also examining it, mrs.
vanderlyn turned in surprise at sight of susy, whose head wascritically bent above the fur.
"susy! i'd no idea you were here! i saw in the papers that youwere with the gillows." the customary embraces followed; thenmrs. vanderlyn, her eyes pursuing the matchless cloak as itdisappeared down a vista of receding mannequins, interrogatedsharply: "are you shopping for ursula? if you mean to orderthat cloak for her i'd rather know."susy smiled, and paused a moment before answering. during thepause she took in all the exquisite details of ellie vanderlyn'sperpetually youthful person, from the plumed crown of her headto the perfect arch of her patent-leather shoes. at last shesaid quietly: "no--to-day i'm shopping for myself.""yourself? yourself?" mrs. vanderlyn echoed with a stare ofincredulity.
"yes; just for a change," susy serenely acknowledged.
"but the cloak--i meant the chinchilla cloak ... the one withthe ermine lining ....""yes; it is awfully good, isn't it? but i mean to lookelsewhere before i decide."ah, how often she had heard her friends use that phrase; and howamusing it was, now, to see ellie's amazement as she heard ittossed off in her own tone of contemptuous satiety! susy wasbecoming more and more dependent on such diversions; withoutthem her days, crowded as they were, would nevertheless havedragged by heavily. but it still amused her to go to the bigdressmakers', watch the mannequins sweep by, and be seen by herfriends superciliously examining all the most expensive dressesin the procession. she knew the rumour was abroad that she andnick were to be divorced, and that lord altringham was "devoted"to her. she neither confirmed nor denied the report: she justlet herself be luxuriously carried forward on its easy tide.
but although it was now three months since nick had left thepalazzo vanderlyn she had not yet written to him-nor he to her.
meanwhile, in spite of all that she packed into them, the dayspassed more and more slowly, and the excitements she had countedon no longer excited her. strefford was hers: she knew that hewould marry her as soon as she was free. they had been togetherat ruan for ten days, and after that she had motored south withhim, stopping on the way to see altringham, from which, at themoment, his mourning relatives were absent.
at altringham they had parted; and after one or two more visitsin england she had come back to paris, where he was now about tojoin her. after her few hours at altringham she had understoodthat he would wait for her as long as was necessary: the fearof the "other women" had ceased to trouble her. but, perhapsfor that very reason, the future seemed less exciting than shehad expected. sometimes she thought it was the sight of thatgreat house which had overwhelmed her: it was too vast, toovenerable, too like a huge monument built of ancient territorialtraditions and obligations. perhaps it had been lived in fortoo long by too many serious-minded and conscientious women:
somehow she could not picture it invaded by bridge and debts andadultery. and yet that was what would have to be, of course ...
she could hardly picture either strefford or herself continuingthere the life of heavy county responsibilities, dull parties,laborious duties, weekly church-going, and presiding over localcommittees .... what a pity they couldn't sell it and have alittle house on the thames!
nevertheless she was not sorry to let it be known thataltringham was hers when she chose to take it. at times shewondered whether nick knew ... whether rumours had reached him.
if they had, he had only his own letter to thank for it. he hadtold her what course to pursue; and she was pursuing it.
for a moment the meeting with ellie vanderlyn had been a shockto her; she had hoped never to see ellie again. but now thatthey were actually face to face susy perceived how dulled hersensibilities were. in a few moments she had grown used toellie, as she was growing used to everybody and to everything inthe old life she had returned to. what was the use of makingsuch a fuss about things? she and mrs. vanderlyn left thedress-maker's together, and after an absorbing session at a newmilliner's were now taking tea in ellie's drawing-room at thenouveau luxe.
ellie, with her spoiled child's persistency, had come back tothe question of the chinchilla cloak. it was the only one shehad seen that she fancied in the very least, and as she hadn't adecent fur garment left to her name she was naturally insomewhat of a hurry ... but, of course, if susy had beenchoosing that model for a friend ....
susy, leaning back against her cushions, examined through half-closed lids mrs. vanderlyn's small delicately-restoredcountenance, which wore the same expression of childisheagerness as when she discoursed of the young davenant of themoment. once again susy remarked that, in ellie's agitatedexistence, every interest appeared to be on exactly the sameplane.
"the poor shivering dear," she answered laughing, "of course itshall have its nice warm winter cloak, and i'll choose anotherone instead.""oh, you darling, you! if you would! of course, whoever youwere ordering it for need never know ....""ah, you can't comfort yourself with that, i'm afraid. i'vealready told you that i was ordering it for myself." susypaused to savour to the full ellie's look of blank bewilderment;then her amusement was checked by an indefinable change in herfriend's expression.
"oh, dearest--seriously? i didn't know there was someone ...."susy flushed to the forehead. a horror of humiliationoverwhelmed her. that ellie should dare to think that of her--that anyone should dare to!
"someone buying chinchilla cloaks for me? thanks!" she flaredout. "i suppose i ought to be glad that the idea didn'timmediately occur to you. at least there was a decent intervalof doubt ...." she stood up, laughing again, and began towander about the room. in the mirror above the mantel shecaught sight of her flushed angry face, and of mrs. vanderlyn'sdisconcerted stare. she turned toward her friend.
"i suppose everybody else will think it if you do; so perhapsi'd better explain." she paused, and drew a quick breath.
"nick and i mean to part--have parted, in fact. he's decidedthat the whole thing was a mistake. he will probably; marryagain soon--and so shall i."she flung the avowal out breathlessly, in her nervous dread ofletting ellie vanderlyn think for an instant longer that anyother explanation was conceivable. she had not meant to be soexplicit; but once the words were spoken she was not altogethersorry. of course people would soon begin to wonder why she wasagain straying about the world alone; and since it was by nick'schoice, why should she not say so? remembering the burninganguish of those last hours in venice she asked herself whatpossible consideration she owed to the man who had so humbledher.
ellie vanderlyn glanced at her in astonishment. "you? you andnick--are going to part?" a light appeared to dawn on her.
"ah--then that's why he sent me back my pin, i suppose?""your pin?" susy wondered, not at once remembering.
"the poor little scarf-pin i gave him before i left venice. hesent it back almost at once, with the oddest note--just: 'ihaven't earned it, really.' i couldn't think why he didn't carefor the pin. but, now i suppose it was because you and he hadquarrelled; though really, even so, i can't see why he shouldbear me a grudge ...."susy's quick blood surged up. nick had sent back the pin-thefatal pin! and she, susy, had kept the bracelet--locked it upout of sight, shrunk away from the little packet whenever herhand touched it in packing or unpacking--but never thought ofreturning it, no, not once! which of the two, she wondered, hadbeen right? was it not an indirect slight to her that nickshould fling back the gift to poor uncomprehending ellie? orwas it not rather another proof of his finer moralsensitiveness! ... and how could one tell, in their bewilderingworld, "it was not because we've quarrelled; we haven'tquarrelled," she said slowly, moved by the sudden desire todefend her privacy and nick's, to screen from every eye theirlast bitter hour together. "we've simply decided that ourexperiment was impossible-for two paupers.""ah, well--of course we all felt that at the time. and nowsomebody else wants to marry you! and it's your trousseau youwere choosing that cloak for?" ellie cried in incredulousrapture; then she flung her arms about susy's shrinkingshoulders. "you lucky lucky girl! you clever clever darling!
but who on earth can he be?"and it was then that susy, for the first time, had pronouncedthe name of lord altringham.
"streff--streff? our dear old streff, you mean to say he wantsto marry you?" as the news took possession of her mind elliebecame dithyrambic. "but, my dearest, what a miracle of luck!
of course i always knew he was awfully gone on you: freddavenant used to say so, i remember ... and even nelson, who'sso stupid about such things, noticed it in venice .... but thenit was so different. no one could possibly have thought ofmarrying him then; whereas now of course every woman is tryingfor him. oh, susy, whatever you do, don't miss your chance!
you can't conceive of the wicked plotting and intriguing therewill be to get him--on all sides, and even where one leastsuspects it. you don't know what horrors women will do-andeven girls!" a shudder ran through her at the thought, and shecaught susy's wrists in vehement fingers. "but i can't think,my dear, why you don't announce your engagement at once. peopleare beginning to do it, i assure you--it's so much safer!"susy looked at her, wondering. not a word of sympathy for theruin of her brief bliss, not even a gleam of curiosity as to itscause! no doubt ellie vanderlyn, like all susy's other friends,had long since "discounted" the brevity of her dream, andperhaps planned a sequel to it before she herself had seen theglory fading. she and nick had spent the greater part of theirfew weeks together under ellie vanderlyn's roof; but to ellie,obviously, the fact meant no more than her own escapade, at thesame moment, with young davenant's supplanter--the "bounder"whom strefford had never named. her one thought for her friendwas that susy should at last secure her prize--her incredibleprize. and therein at any rate ellie showed the kind of colddisinterestedness that raised her above the smiling perfidy ofthe majority of her kind. at least her advice was sincere; andperhaps it was wise. why should susy not let every one knowthat she meant to marry strefford as soon as the "formalities"were fulfilled?
she did not immediately answer mrs. vanderlyn's question; andthe latter, repeating it, added impatiently: "i don'tunderstand you; if nick agrees-""oh, he agrees," said susy.
"then what more do you want! oh, susy, if you'd only follow myexample!""your example?" susy paused, weighed the word, was struck bysomething embarrassed, arch yet half-apologetic in her friend'sexpression. "your example?" she repeated. "why, ellie, what onearth do you mean? not that you're going to part from poornelson?"mrs. vanderlyn met her reproachful gaze with a crystallineglance. "i don't want to, heaven knows--poor dear nelson! iassure you i simply hate it. he's always such an angel toclarissa ... and then we're used to each other. but what in theworld am i to do? algie's so rich, so appallingly rich, that ihave to be perpetually on the watch to keep other women awayfrom him--and it's too exhausting ....""algie?"mrs. vanderlyn's lovely eyebrows rose. "algie: algiebockheimer. didn't you know, i think he said you've dined withhis parents. nobody else in the world is as rich as thebockheimers; and algie's their only child. yes, it was withhim ... with him i was so dreadfully happy last spring ... andnow i'm in mortal terror of losing him. and i do assure youthere's no other way of keeping them, when they're as hideouslyrich as that!"susy rose to her feet. a little shudder ran over her. sheremembered, now, having seen algie bockheimer at one of hisparents' first entertainments, in their newly-inaugurated marblehalls in fifth avenue. she recalled his too faultless clothesand his small glossy furtive countenance. she looked at ellievanderlyn with sudden scorn.
"i think you're abominable," she exclaimed.
the other's perfect little face collapsed. "a-bo-minable?
a-bo-mi-nable? susy!""yes ... with nelson ... and clarissa ... and your pasttogether ... and all the money you can possibly want ... andthat man! abominable."ellie stood up trembling: she was not used to scenes, and theydisarranged her thoughts as much as her complexion.
"you're very cruel, susy--so cruel and dreadful that i hardlyknow how to answer you," she stammered. "but you simply don'tknow what you're talking about. as if anybody ever had all themoney they wanted!" she wiped her dark-rimmed eyes with acautious handkerchief, glanced at herself in the mirror, andadded magnanimously: "but i shall try to forget what you'vesaid."
