The Perils of Pauline Part 38

CHAPTER XVII

PALMER COMES BACK

Harry had just hung up the receiver of the telephone and had turned to Pauline with feigned disappointment.

"My office is calling me," he said. "I'm needed there at once. I shan't be able to go to the wedding."

The sight of the happiness fading from her flowerlike face filled him with shame. It was the first time in his life that he had lied to her and he was half sorry now that he had done so. But he must go through with it now, and if there was apology in the kisses he pressed on her reproachful eyes it was not confessed.

"I am going to the wedding just the same," declared Pauline.

"Of course, you are," he agreed heartily. "Farrell will be back with the car by five o'clock."

"But who will chaperon me?" she objected, woman-like, to her own decision. "It would look absurd to take Margaret, and Owen isn't invited."

"You will not need a chaperon going over--provided Farrell gets back," he said as he took his hat from the table.

"You mean you don't believe Farrell will get back!" she exclaimed.

"You are treating me like a child. You don't want me to go to the wedding just because you can't go."

"Now, don't, don't," he pleaded, as she started to leave the room. "I don't mean anything of the kind. I mean Farrell is the only man who can drive the large car or the roadster safely. There is no reason in the world why he shouldn't get back."

"And how am I to come home?" she demanded, turning again toward him.

"I will call for you in the runabout on my way from New York. Perhaps even I shall be able to arrive in time to greet the happy pair," he added cheerfully. "You'll make my excuses."

Owen, who was listening at the door, had just time, to glide away before Harry hurried out.

The young master of the house had driven far toward the station before the secretary returned to the library.

This time he entered and pretended to be hunting for a magazine.

Pauline's disconsolate face gave him the excuse he desired.

"Why, Miss Marvin, has anything happened?" he asked in a tone of concern.

"Oh, everything has gone wrong," she cried, almost in tears.

"What do you mean?"

"Harry is called to the city just when we are invited to Sophie McCallan's wedding, and Farrell has taken the limousine for some silly repairs. They'll not get back; I know they'll not. They never do."

"But, Miss Marvin?"

"Oh, don't try to apologize for him. He cares more for his old business than he does for me. He makes automobiles himself, and yet I can't have enough for my own personal use. I'm sorry I forgave him,"

she flared.

"You are right, Miss Marvin; it is an outrage."

She looked at Owen in astonishment. It was the first time she had ever heard him venture a critical word against Harry.

"I think it is your fault," she declared. "You are the one who should see that I have cars and drivers--everything I want."

"But you know the machines have not come from the town house, Miss Marvin. They will be here tomorrow."

"Well, Owen, it isn't for you to say that what my brother does is an outrage. He does everything for the best."

"Miss Marvin, Harry is lying to you," he said quietly. "He and your chauffeur have formed a plot against you. Your car will not be back this afternoon at all."

She sprang to her feet, furious.

"Owen, be still! How do you dare to say such things?"

Raymond Owen had found his great moment, His enemy had set his own trap and Owen would see that he should not escape easily. The opportunity to break forever the bond of faith and affection between Harry and Pauline had come. His voice rose as he poured out his revelations and denunciations.

Pauline was leaving the room, when he thrust himself before her.

"You must hear me. I know what I say is true. It hurts me as deeply as it will hurt you, but you must hear it. I believe I have discovered --by the merest accident--the cause of all your perils. The plots against you have been arranged at home."

"You are mad. I will not listen to you. Let me pa.s.s."

"Not until you have heard," he declared firmly.

"I was pa.s.sing the door of the garage only a few moments ago," he went on in a rapid whisper. "I saw Farrell at the telephone. He called the private house number--the number of this phone on the table. You and Mr. Marvin were sitting here. I was so surprised that I stopped and listened to Farrell's words. I could see Mr. Marvin listening at the phone here. Farrell said: 'Mr. Marvin, you are needed at your office. Come at once.' Then he hung up the receiver and came out, laughing. He got into the limousine and drove off towards the city.

If he could drive the limousine to the city, could he not drive it to the McCallan's for you?"

Pauline put her hands to her ears with a protesting cry.

"It isn't true," she whispered. "It is only a scheme of Farrell's to get an afternoon off."

"It is a scheme of Harry's to keep you from the wedding--for what purpose only he knows. It is one of many schemes that have held your life in constant peril. I saw their plan arranged. I saw your brother hand money to Farrell at the door of the garage and they parted, laughing."

Pauline's mind whirled. "I won't believe it! I can't; I can't!" she cried. Doubt and fear and fury mingled in her breast. Weeping tumultuously, she rushed past Owen and up to her own room.

Two hours later, the struggle over, she called Margaret, who bathed her hot temples and dressed her for the wedding.

Harry Marvin, in town, tried his best to make good use of the time he had stolen. But the thought of his well-meant chicanery was heavy on his mind and it was not unmixed with apprehension. After all, Pauline might find a way to go to the wedding. Might he not, instead of having averted a danger, simply have absented himself from the scene of danger when he was most needed? His nervousness increased. He found himself incapable of work, and at three o'clock, to the surprise of his clerks, who had thought his unexpected visit must mean an important conference of directors, he called a taxicab and started for Westbury. But he had no intention of going to Castle Marvin unless it was necessary. He meant to telephone from Westbury and learn whether or not Pauline had gone to the wedding. If she had not, he would remain away until late.

A few minutes before four o'clock, Farrell, with his pretty wife whom he had called to share his plot and his holiday, drove up to a rural telegraph office. They were both laughing as Farrell handed this message to the operator:

Miss Pauline Marvin, Castle Marvin, Westbury. Blow-out. Can't get back this evening. George Farre

"You--don't want to say what kind of a blow-out it is, do you?"

grinned the operator, glancing out of the window at the spic and span machine.

"If you don't see everything you look at, you'll save your eyesight,"