Carmen Ariza Part 131

"Don't do it!" hastily interposed Mrs. Gannette. "She's going to be dropped. Name's already on the black list. I don't know what Mrs.

Hawley-Crowles was thinking of to invite her to-night! Her estate is being handled by Ames and Company, and J. Wilton says there won't be much left when it's settled--

"My goodness!" she exclaimed, abruptly flitting to another topic.

"There goes Miss Tottle. Look at her skirt--flounced at the knees, and full in the back so's to give a bustle effect. My! I wish I could wear togs cut that way--

"They say, my dear," the garrulous old worldling prattled on, "that next season's styles will be very ultra. b.u.t.terfly idea, I hear. Hats small and round, like the heads of b.u.t.terflies. Waists and jackets very full and quite loose in the back and shoulders, so's to give the appearance of wings. Belts, but no drawing in at the waist. Skirts plaited, plaits opening wide at the knees and coming close together again at the ankle, so's to look like the body of a b.u.t.terfly. Then b.u.t.terfly bows sprinkled all over."

She paused for breath. Then she drew a long sigh. "Oh dear," she lamented, "I'd give anything if I had a decent shape! I'd like to wear those s.h.i.+mmering, flowing, transparent summer things over silk tights.

But, mercy me! I'd look like a potato busted wide open. Now you can wear those X-ray dresses all right--

"Say, Kathleen Ames has a new French gown to wear to the Dog Show.

Skirt slit clear to the knee, with diamond garter around the leg just below. How I'd look! I have a leg like a ham!"

Carmen heard little of this vapid talk, as she sat studying the pale woman across the hall. She had resolved to meet her just as soon as the loquacious Mrs. Gannette should seek another victim. But that genial old gossip gave no present evidence of a desire to change.

"I'm _so_ glad you're going to marry young Altern," she said, again swerving the course of her conversation. "He's got a fine old ruined castle somewhere in England, and seems to have wads of money, though I hear that everything is mortgaged to Ames. I wouldn't be surprised.

Still, his bare t.i.tle is worth something to an American girl. Besides, you've got money. And you'll do a lot for his family. You know--but don't breathe a word of this!--his mother never was recognized socially in England, and she finally had to give up the fight. For a while Ames backed her, but it wouldn't do. His millions couldn't buy her the court entree, and she just had to quit. That's why she's over here now. The old Duke--he was lots older than she--died a couple of years ago. Ran through everything and drank himself to death. Before and since that happy event the d.u.c.h.ess did everything under the heavens to get a bid to court. She gave millions to charity and to entertainments. She sacrificed everything. But, no sir! It wouldn't do. She had no royal blood. But with you it will be different. You're a princess, royal Inca, and such like. You qualify right from the jump. So you see what you're expected to do for the Altern crowd--

"Dear! dear!" catching her breath and switching quickly to another theme, "have you heard about the Hairton scandal? It's simply rich!

You see, young Sidney Ames--"

Carmen's patience had touched its limit. "Don't, please don't!" she begged, holding out a hand. "I do not wish to hear it!"

Mrs. Gannette raised her lorgnette and looked at the girl. "Why, my dear! what's the matter? The scandal's about Ames's son, you know. The reason he doesn't go in society. Just come to light. You see--"

"My dear Mrs. Gannette," Carmen looked up at her with a beseeching smile. "You wouldn't deliberately give me poison to drink, would you?"

"Why, certainly not!" bl.u.s.tered that garrulous lady in astonishment.

"Then why do you poison my mind with such conversation?"

"What!"

"You sit there pouring into my mentality thought after thought that is deadly poisonous, don't you know it?"

"Why--!"

"You don't mean to harm me, I know," pleaded the girl. "But if you only understood mental laws you would know that every thought entering one's mind tends to become manifested in some way. Thoughts of disease, disaster, death, scandal--all tend to become externalized in discordant ways, either on the body, or in the environment. You don't want any such things manifested to me, do you? But you might just as well hand me poison to drink as to sit there and pour such deadly conversation into me."

Mrs. Gannette slowly drew herself up with the hauteur of a grandee.

Carmen seized her hand. "I do not want to listen to these unreal things which concern only the human mind," she said earnestly. "Nor should you, if you are truly aristocratic, for aristocracy is of the thought. I am not going to marry Reginald. A human t.i.tle means nothing to me. But one's thought--that alone is one's claim to _real_ aristocracy. I know I have offended you, but only because I refuse to let you poison me. Now I will go."

She left the divan and the petrified dame, and hurriedly mingled with the crowd on the floor.

"The little cat!" exploded Mrs. Gannette, when she again found herself. "She has mortally insulted me!"

Carmen went directly to the pale woman, still sitting alone, who had been one of the objects of Mrs. Gannette's slighting remarks. The woman glanced up as she saw the girl approaching, and a look of wonder came into her eyes. Carmen held out a hand.

"I am Carmen Ariza," she said simply. "You are Miss Wall. I want you to be my friend."

The woman roused up and tried to appear composed.

"Will you ride with me to-morrow?" continued Carmen. "Then we can talk all we want to, with n.o.body to overhear. Aren't you happy?" she abruptly added, unable longer to withstand the appeal which issued mutely from the l.u.s.terless eyes before her.

The woman smiled wanly. "Not so very," she replied slowly.

"Well!" exclaimed Carmen; "what's wrong?"

"I am poverty-stricken," returned the woman sadly.

"But I will give you money," Carmen quickly replied.

"My dear child," said the woman, "I haven't anything but money. That is why I am poverty-stricken."

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, sinking into a chair at her side. "Well,"

she added, brightening, "now you have me! And will you call me up, first thing in the morning, and arrange to ride with me? I want you to, so much!"

The woman's eyes grew moist. "Yes," she murmured, "I will--gladly."

In the small hours of the morning there were several heads tossing in stubborn wakefulness on their pillows in various New York mansions.

But Carmen's was not one of them.

CHAPTER 17

On the morning following Mrs. Hawley-Crowles's very successful imitation of the _Bal de l'Opera_, Monsignor Lafelle paid an early call to the Ames _sanctum_. And the latter gentleman deemed the visit of sufficient importance to devote a full hour to his caller. When the churchman rose to take his leave he reiterated:

"Our friend Wenceslas will undertake the matter for you, Mr. Ames, but on the conditions which I have named. But Rome must be communicated with, and the substance of her replies must be sent from Cartagena to you, and your letters forwarded to her. That might take us into early summer. But there is no likelihood that Mr. Ketchim's engineers will make any further attempt before that time to enter Colombia. Mr. Reed in still in California. Mr. Harris is in Denver, at his old home, you tell me. So we need look for no immediate move from them."

"Quite satisfactory, Lafelle," returned Ames genially. "In future, if I can be of service to you, I am yours to command. Mr. Willett will hand you a check covering your traveling expenses on my behalf."

When the door closed after Lafelle, Ames leaned back in his chair and gave himself up to a moment's reflection. "I wonder," he mused, "I wonder if the fellow has something up his sleeve that he didn't show me? He acted suspiciously. Perhaps he's getting a bit dangerous. He may know too much already. I'm going to drop him after this trap is sprung. He's got Jim Crowles's widow all tied up, too. I wonder if he--by heaven! if he begins work on that girl I'll--"

He was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone bell. It was Gannette. "What?" shouted Ames, "you say the girl insulted your wife last evening? I don't believe she could--Yes, yes, I mean, I don't think she meant to--certainly not, no aspersion whatever intended--What? the girl will have to apologize?--Well! well--No, not in a thousand years!--Yes, I'll back her! And if your society isn't good enough for her--and I don't think it is--why, I'll form a little coterie all by myself!"

He hung up the receiver with a slam. Then he angrily summoned Hodson.

"I want a dozen brokers watching Gannette now until I call them off,"

he commanded. "I want you to take personal charge of them. Dog his every move. I'll give you some suggestions later."

Hodson bowed and went out. Ames continued his meditations. "Lucile already has Gannette pretty well wound up in his Venezuelan speculations--and they are going to smash--Lafelle has fixed that. And I've bought her notes against Mrs. Hawley-Crowles for about a million--which I have reinvested for her in Colombia. Humph! She'll feed out of my hand now! La Libertad is mine when the trap falls. So is C. and R. And that little upstart, Ketchim, goes to Sing Sing!"

He turned to the morning paper that lay upon his desk. "I don't like the way the Colombian revolution drags," he mused. "But certainly it can't last much longer. And then--then--"

His thoughts wandered off into devious channels. "So Jose de Rincon is--well! well! Things have taken an odd turn. But--where on earth did that girl come from? Lord! she was beautiful last night. All religion, eh? Ha! ha! Well, she's young. There's a lot of experience coming to her. And then she'll drop a few of her pious notions. Lucile says--but Lucile is getting on my nerves!"