Madge Morton's Secret Part 8

Flora Harris turned scarlet. Mrs. Curtis bit her lips to keep from smiling. Madge bowed distantly to Flora. Then she rose and said demurely: "Are you ready to go, Mrs. Curtis? Good afternoon, Miss Harris."

There was a distinct note of constraint in Mrs. Curtis's voice as she said good-bye to Flora Harris. She was heartily disgusted with the cavalier manner which the officer's daughter had exhibited, and privately registered a vow that after the play she would invite Miss Harris to her hotel but little.

Madge stayed to luncheon with Mrs. Curtis and Madeleine. In the afternoon Tom came in with the news that the Army headquarters at Fortress Monroe were ringing with the story of the disappearance of Lieutenant Jimmy Lawton. It was rumored that he had started for Was.h.i.+ngton, where he was to appear before a body of naval experts selected to judge the value of his invention. Up to that time he had not arrived in Was.h.i.+ngton. He had made no report in regard to his failure to appear. Gossip was beginning to whisper that Lieutenant Jimmy was not such a patriot after all. Possibly he had run away to a foreign country to sell his model to the highest bidder. He might never again be allowed to wear his uniform as an officer in the United States Navy.

Madge wondered what she ought to tell Phil in regard to the strange rumors. She was afraid Phyllis would be grieved, and be sadly worried.

What had the two girls concealed in the mysterious package left in their charge by the vanished officer, who had evidently foreseen that gossip would follow his mysterious departure?

Madge need not have troubled herself on Phil's account. That young woman took the report of Lieutenant Jimmy's disappearance with perfect calmness. "He will be back very soon," she a.s.serted to Madge. "Then he will be able to explain everything to everyone's satisfaction.

Lieutenant Lawton is not a traitor. Just you wait and see!" So Phyllis continued to have faith in the young officer. She never reflected on what the box in her trunk contained, but she never left the trunk unlocked for a moment. Nor did she ever fail to wear a small bra.s.s key about her person.

On the evening appointed for the performance of "The Decision" all personal differences were apparently forgotten. Madge thought no more of her trouble with Flora Harris. She had tried to be as polite to her as possible and Flora had appeared to accept her apology. Flora Harris had determined that it was the wisest thing that she could do to appear to be friendly with Madge. It would make the revenge which she had planned against Madge the more complete. Then, if she let it be known that Miss Morton had withdrawn the accusation against herself and Alice, no one could possibly believe there had been any truth in it in the beginning. Her act would appear to be inspired only by her own chagrin over defeat in the race.

The day of the play Lillian and Madge were radiant over the prospect of the evening's gayety. Eleanor, Phil and Miss Jenny Ann were equally interested. The four girls sewed and talked the entire morning. They had not had such a good time together since the beginning of their second houseboat holiday. In a few days "The Merry Maid" would be sent up the bay to be looked after for the winter; the four comrades would return to Miss Tolliver's school; Miss Jenny Ann would be turned from chaperon to teacher. The girls were enthusiastic about their winter. Of course, they would study harder and accomplish more than they ever had before, they promised themselves.

The private ballroom in her hotel, which Mrs. Curtis had engaged for the performance of the little drama, was delightfully arranged. A small stage was erected at one end of it, and low-growing flowers and palms banked about it. There was little light in the back of the room, where the audience sat, but the miniature stage was brilliant with the glow of delicately shaded electric lights.

Mrs. Curtis had invited about fifty guests, her friends from the nearby hotels and cottages, and a number of Army and Navy officers with their families. The season was almost at an end. Mrs. Curtis, Madeleine and Tom would leave for New York in ten days. They wished their last entertainment to be a memorable one.

Miss Jenny Ann sat in one of the front row chairs with Eleanor and Phyllis. In their dressing room, Madge was trying to comfort Lillian, who had lost her courage at the eleventh hour. When the time came for her to go on, however, Lillian forgot her stage fright and made her first entrance with the air of a seasoned trouper. The heavy work of the play lay between Flora Harris and Madge, and in the enactment of the little drama that followed it was difficult to realize that neither of the two young women was a professional.

"Flora Harris's part is pretty well suited to her," Tom Curtis had confided to Madge at the dress rehearsal the day before. "I can imagine she would be quite likely to load the blame for her own misdeeds on the other girl's shoulders. She wouldn't experience a change of heart at the end of the stunt the way this girl did, either."

And Madge, being merely human, could not resist flas.h.i.+ng him a glance which meant that she quite agreed with him.

It was in the final scene, where the secretary makes her appeal to the father of the girl, that Madge scored her greatest triumph. The rise and fall of her clear voice, that Madeleine always a.s.serted had "tears"

in it, coupled with the intense earnestness with which she made her plea, called forth ungrudging applause, and when, after the cast had taken several encores the audience still kept up a steady clamor, she was obliged to appear between the silken curtains and make a little speech. It was indeed Madge Morton's hour of triumph.

CHAPTER IX

MADGE MORTON'S SECRET

Mrs. Curtis had arranged that her younger guests should have refreshments served to them in the small private dining room as soon as their play was over. The older guests were to be served in another larger room which she had engaged for that purpose.

In the middle of the dining room was a table decorated with a model houseboat made of crystal candy. There were flowers, fruits and candies on the table, which was lighted with candles.

When Madge, Lillian, Tom Curtis and Harry Sears entered the room Eleanor and Phil were standing at one side of this table, talking to a group of their friends. Directly after they took their places the two Simrall boys and half a dozen other young people were ushered in, until the room was comfortably full.

Suddenly, as though drawn by a curious force, Madge lifted her eyes.

She saw the dining room door open and Flora Harris enter. She was followed by Alfred Thornton, whose face was a dull red and whose eyes were lowered. Madge felt a premonition of disaster, an apprehensive shudder pa.s.sed over her. Flora continued to walk the entire length of the room, speaking to no one. When she came to Madge she halted, staring at her through insolent, half-closed eyes.

Tom looked at Flora Harris in angry amazement. He knew she was about to make a disagreeable speech, but he wondered what had actuated her to do so. He frowned over the heads of the girls at Alfred Thornton. He tried to signal to him to steer Miss Harris in some safer direction, but Alfred would not return his glance.

"Miss Morton," began Flora, in an unusually high voice, "I wish to congratulate you on your success to-night. There is no doubt about your talent as an actress." Flora laid such stress on the word "actress"

that Madge blushed hotly.

"Thank you," she answered, fighting back her temper.

Alfred Thornton leaned over to whisper to Flora, "Don't, Flora, please, don't."

Flora Harris tossed her head angrily. For some time she had been stealthily planning her revenge against Madge. Now that she had an unusually good opportunity to put her plan into action, she did not intend to allow the little captain to escape her unscathed.

"It is a matter of surprise to me, Miss Morton, that you could have the temerity to come here to Old Point Comfort, knowing it to be a military post," she continued.

Madge started slightly. The movement of her body was scarcely perceptible, yet Flora saw it.

"Oh, I see you understand me," she sneered, "but as it is very bad form to exchange confidences when others are present, let us have done with confidences. I am sure everyone here will be deeply interested in my story, which is this: Once upon a time there was an officer in the Navy whose name was Robert Morton. He proved himself unworthy to be a naval officer and was dismissed from the service in disgrace and disappeared.

Miss Morton will tell you the rest of the story. As Robert Morton was her father, it is just possible that she can tell us something further about him." Flora's face shone with cruel triumph.

Madge looked at her tormentor with unseeing eyes. For the instant she was stunned by the blow. Then reason returned. White to the lips, she fixed Flora with the stern question, "Where did you hear this story?"

The others of the party sat staring in horrified silence.

Flora shrugged her shoulders. "Anything to oblige you," she retorted, "but don't attempt to say the story isn't true. I know it to be true because my grandfather was your father's superior officer at the time."

Madge gave one sharp cry that brought the company to their feet in alarm. "Your grandfather's name--tell me--I must know."

"Richard Foster Harris," replied Flora, gazing at Madge with a deep frown. What was the matter? Her vengeful announcement was having an entirely different effect upon the girl she disliked than that which she had antic.i.p.ated. "My grandfather is an admiral now. He was in line for promotion when your father was dismissed in disgrace." Flora lingered over the word "disgrace."

"Your grandfather, Richard Foster Harris," repeated Madge brokenly.

"Then he is--he is--oh, I am not so cruel as you. I can not speak against----"

"What do you mean?" almost screamed Flora. "How dare you even insinuate anything against my grandfather? He is an admiral, do you understand, an _admiral_!"

Madge glanced about her, meeting the anxious, sympathetic faces of her friends. They were for the moment completely taken aback by this sudden turn in affairs. Alfred Thornton's eyes was the only pair which refused to meet hers. He averted his head.

"I thought," she said, addressing Miss Harris with a gentle dignity that went straight to the hearts of her hearers, "that I could retaliate, that I could say to you words that would cut into your soul as deeply as your words have cut into mine, but there are strong reasons why I can't say them."

"And I insist that you explain your insinuation," flung back Flora. "Do so at once, or I will send for Mrs. Curtis and force you to do as I say."

"Send for Mrs. Curtis if you wish." Madge's face was a white mask lighted by the defiant gleam of eyes that seemed almost to flame. "Do not imagine, however, that I shall either explain or retract what I have just said."

Letting her gaze wander from one to the other of her friends, she said with finality: "I can not even discuss the charge Miss Harris has made against my father. It is true that he was once in the Navy, and that I once believed him to be dead. More than that I can not tell you. It is, and must forever be, my secret."

Turning to Madeleine she said quietly, "Will you forgive me for having been the cause of this scene and allow me to go?"

For answer Madeleine drew Madge within the circle of her arm and kissed her tenderly.

"Good night." As one in a dream the little captain bowed to the company and walked to the door. Tom Curtis followed her, casting a wrathful glance at Flora Harris, who for once in her life could think of nothing to say.

There was the sound of a closing door, then Phil's voice rang out in tones of bitter denunciation:

"Miss Harris, you are the cruelest, most despicable girl I have ever known. Madge reverenced the memory of her father as something too sacred for discussion. I know that her greatest ambition in life was to find some one who had been his friend, some one who could tell her of him. Happily for Madge, I do not believe your accusation to be true. I am equally sure that her motive for silence is one you could never understand."