"Nonsense! Of course there is.You have scarcely spoken a word of your own accord since you came, and you have been scowling like a thundercloud all the time.Now what is it? Have I done something you don't like?""There is nothing the matter, I tell you.""Please don't be so silly.Of course there is.I thought there must be something wrong the last time you were here, that evening, when Ed called, too.It seemed to me that you were rather queer then.Now you are queerer still.What is it?"This straightforward attack, although absolutely characteristic of Helen, was disconcerting.Albert met it by an attack of his own.
"Helen," he demanded, "what does that Raymond fellow mean by coming to see you as he does?"Now whether or not Helen was entirely in the dark as to the cause of her visitor's "queerness" is a question not to be answered here.
She was far from being a stupid young person and it is at least probable that she may have guessed a little of the truth.But, being feminine, she did not permit Albert to guess that she had guessed.If her astonishment at the question was not entirely sincere, it certainly appeared to be so.
"What does he mean?" she repeated."What does he mean by coming to see me? Why, what do YOU mean? I should think that was the question.Why shouldn't he come to see me, pray?"Now Albert has a dozen reasons in his mind, each of which was to him sufficiently convincing.But expressing those reasons to Helen Kendall he found singularly difficult.He grew confused and stammered.
"Well--well, because he has no business to come here so much," was the best he could do.Helen, strange to say, was not satisfied.
"Has no business to?" she repeated."Why, of course he has.Iasked him to come."
"You did? Good heavens, you don't LIKE him, do you?""Of course I like him.I think he is a very nice fellow.Don't you?""No, I don't."
"Why not?"
"Well--well, because I don't, that's all.He has no business to monopolize you all the time.Why, he is here about every night in the week, or you're out with him, down town, or--or somewhere.
Everybody is talking about it and--"
"Wait a minute, please.You say everybody is talking about Ed Raymond and me.What do you mean by that? What are they saying?""They're saying....Oh, they're saying you and he are--are--""Are what?"
"Are--are-- Oh, they're saying all sorts of things.Look here, Helen, I--""Wait! I want to know more about this.What have you heard said about me?""Oh, a lot of things....That is--er--well, nothing in particular, perhaps, but--""Wait! Who have you heard saying it?"
"Oh, never mind! Helen--"
"But I do mind.Who have you heard saying this 'lot of things'
about me?"
"Nobody, I tell you....Oh, well, if you must know, Issy Price said--well, he said you and this Raymond fellow were what he called 'keeping company' and--and that the whole town was talking about it."She slowly shook her head.
"Issy Price!" she repeated."And you listened to what Issy Price said.Issy Price, of all people!""Well--well, he said everyone else said the same thing.""Did he say more than that?"
"No, but that was enough, wasn't it.Besides, the rest was plain.
I could see it myself.He is calling here about every night in the week, and--and being around everywhere with you and--and-- Oh, anyone can see!"Helen's usually placid temper was beginning to ruffle.
"Very well," she said, "then they may see.Why shouldn't he call here if he wishes--and I wish? Why shouldn't I be 'around with him,' as you say? Why not?""Well, because I don't like it.It isn't the right thing for you to do.You ought to be more careful of--of what people say."He realized, almost as soon as this last sentence was blurted out, the absolute tactlessness of it.The quiet gleam of humor he had so often noticed in Helen's eyes was succeeded now by a look he had never before seen there.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he added, hastily."I beg your pardon, Helen.Ididn't mean to say that.Forgive me, will you?"She did not answer immediately.Then she said, "I don't know whether I shall or not.I think I shall have to think it over.
And perhaps you had better go now."
"But I'M sorry, Helen.It was a fool thing to say.I don't know why I was such an idiot.Do forgive me; come!"She slowly shook her head."I can't--yet," she said."And this you must understand: If Ed Raymond, or anyone else, calls on me and I choose to permit it, or if I choose to go out with him anywhere at any time, that is my affair and not 'everyone else's'--which includes Issachar Price.And my FRIENDS--my real friends--will not listen to mean, ridiculous gossip.Good night."So that was the end of that attempt at asserting the Divine Right by the South Harniss king of hearts.Albert was more miserable than ever, angrier than ever--not only at Raymond and Helen, but at himself--and his newly-discovered jealousy burned with a brighter and greener flame.The idea of throwing everything overboard, going to Canada and enlisting in the Canadian Army--an idea which had had a strong and alluring appeal ever since the war broke out--came back with redoubled force.But there was the agreement with his grandfather.He had given his word; how could he break it?
Besides, to go away and leave his rival with a clear field did not appeal to him, either.
On a Wednesday evening in the middle of September the final social event of the South Harniss summer season was to take place.The Society for the Relief of the French Wounded was to give a dance in the ballroom of the hotel, the proceeds from the sale of tickets to be devoted to the purpose defined by the name of this organization.
Every last member of the summer colony was to attend, of course, and all those of the permanent residents who aspired to social distinction and cared to pay the high price of admission.
