Chapter 12

"She crowds me to profile. They want me full-face. If you'd put in a word to Sol to direct it that way! Other night, at the Buckingham, it was a riot every time I turned full-face. Just because a fellow happens to have a good profile is no reason why--"

"Well, Feist, how does the war look to-day?"

"Ugly, Pelz, ugly. Every hour this country lets pass with Belgium unavenged she is going to pay up for later."

"It's not our fight, Mr. Feist."

"Maybe it's not our fight, Mr. Spencer, but if ever there was a cause that is all humanity's fight, it is those bleeding and murdered women and children of Belgium. You're sailing over there yourself next week, Mr. Spencer, and I hope to God you will see for yourself how much of our fight it is."

"Ain't things just simply terrible? Honest, I said to Roody, when I picked up the paper this morning, it gives me the blues before I open it."

"Nobody can tell me that this country is going to sit back much longer and see autocracy grind its heel into the face of the world."

"You're right, Feist! I think if there is one thing worse than being too proud to fight, it is not being proud enough to fight."

"Lester Spencer, if you don't stop making eyes!"

"Mr. Pelz, every time I drink to your daughter only with my eyes she slaps me on the wrist. You put in a good word for me."

"Little more of that ice-cream, Feist?"

"Thanks, Pelz; no."

"You, Lester?"

"Don't care if I do, Miss Bleema Butterfly."

Mr. Pelz flashed out a watch. "Don't want to hurry you, Spencer, but if you have to catch that ten-o'clock train, by the time you get back and change clothes--"

"You're right, Mr. Pelz; I'd better be getting on."

Miss Pelz danced to her feet. "Mamma and papa will excuse us, Lester, if we leave before coffee. Come; I'll shoot you to the club."

"Why, Bleema! George will bring the limousine around and--"

"I promised! Didn't I promise you, Lester, that if you came up to dinner I'd drive you back to the club myself?"

"She sure did, Mrs. Pelz."

"Bleema, you stay right here and finish your supper. There's two chauffeurs on the place to drive Spencer around to his club."

"But, dad, I promised."

"Why, Bleema, ain't you ashamed? Mr. Feist here for dinner and you to run off like that. Shame on you!"

"Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Pelz. I'll stay around and be entertained by you and Mr.--"

"I'll be back in twenty minutes, moms. Surely you'll excuse me that long! I want to drive him down in my new runabout. I promised. Please, moms! Dad?"

"Ask your papa, Bleema; I--I don't know--"

"Dad?"

"You heard what I said, Bleema. No!"

A quick film of tears formed over Miss Pelz's eyes, her lips quivering. "Oh, well--if--if you're going to be that mean--oh, you make me so mad--. Come on, Lester--I--I guess I can take you as far as the front door without the whole world jumping on me. Oh--oh--you make me so mad!" And pranced out on slim feet of high dudgeon.

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Pelz, stirring into her coffee. "She's so high strung."

"She's got to quit wasting her time on that conceited jackass," said Mr. Pelz, swallowing off his demi-tasse at a gulp. "Won't have it!"

"It makes her papa mad the way the boys just kill themselves over that girl," said Mrs. Pelz, arch of glance toward Mr. Feist, who was stirring also, his eyes lowered.

"Me, too," he said, softly.

"Jealous!" flashed Mrs. Pelz.

After an interval, and only upon despatching a servant, Miss Pelz returned, the tears frank streaks now down her cheeks.

"Sit down, baby, and drink your coffee."

"Don't want any."

"Williams, bring Miss Bleema some hot coffee."

"I'm finished, mother--please!"

"I was telling Mr. Feist a while ago, Bleema, about your ambition to be a writer, not for money, but just for the pleasure in it. What is it you call such writing in your French, honey? Dilytanty?"

"Please, mamma, Mr. Feist isn't interested."

"Indeed I am, Miss Bleema! More interested than in anything I know of."

"She's mad at her papa, Feist, and when my little girl gets mad at her papa there's nothing for him to do but apologize with a big kiss."

Suddenly Miss Pelz burst into tears, a hot cascade of them that flowed down over her prettiness.

"Why, Bleema!"

"Now, now, papa's girl--"

The grandmother made a quick gesture of uplifted hands, leaning over toward her, and Miss Pelz hiding her face against that haven of shrunken old bosom.

"Oh, grandma, make 'em let me alone!"

"Why, Bleema darling, I'm surprised! Ain't you ashamed to act this way in front of Mr. Feist? What'll he think?"

"Please, Mrs. Pelz, don't mind me; she's a little upset--that's all."

"You--you made me look like--like thirty cents before Lester Spencer--that--that's what you did."

"Why, Bleema, do you think that if papa thought that Lester Spencer was worth bothering that pretty red head of yours about that he would--"

"There you go again! Always picking on Lester. If you want to know it, next to Norma Beautiful and Allan Hunt he's the biggest money-maker your old corporation has got."

"What's that got to do with you?"

"And he'll be passing them all in a year or two, you see if he don't--if--if--if only you'd stop picking on him and letting Uncle Sol crowd him out of the pictures and everybody in the company take advantage of him--he--he's grand--he--"

"He's a grand conceited fool. If not for the silly matinee women in the world he couldn't make salt."

"That shows all you know about him, papa! He's got big ideals, Lester has. He got plans up his sleeve for making over the moving-picture business from the silly films they show nowadays to--"

"Yes--to something where no one gets a look-in except Lester Spencer. They're looking for his kind to run the picture business!"

"Roody--Bleema--please! Just look at poor grandma! Mr. Feist, I must apologize."

"He's a nix, an empty-headed--"

"He is--is he? Well, then--well, then--since you force me to it--right here in front of Mr. Feist--Lester Spencer and I got engaged to-day! He's the only man in my life. We're going to be married right off, in time for me to sail for France with the company. He's going to talk to you when he gets back from Horseshoe Bend. We're engaged! That's how much I think of Lester Spencer. That's how much I know he's the finest man in the world. Now then! Now then!"

There was a note in Miss Pelz's voice that, in the ensuing silence, seemed actually to ring against the frail crystal. She was on her feet, head up, tears drying.

"Blee-Bleema!"

"Moms darling, aren't you happy? Isn't it wonderful--moms?"

"Roody! For God's sake, Bleema, you're choking your father to death! Roody, for God's sake, don't get so red! Williams--some water--quick! Roody!"

"I'm all right. All right, I tell you. She got me excited. Sit down, Bleema--sit down, I said."

"Pelz, if you don't mind, I think maybe I'd better be going."

"You stay right here, Feist. I want you to hear every word that I'm going to say. If my daughter has no shame, I haven't, either. Williams, call Mrs. Sopinsky's maid, and see that she gets to her room comfortable. Sit down, Bleema!"

"My God!--I can't believe my ears--Bleema and such a _goy_ play-actor--"

"Please, Rosie!"

"A _goy_ that--"

"Rosie, I said, 'Please!' Bleema, did you hear me? Sit down!"

Miss Pelz sat then, gingerly on the chair-edge, her young lips straight. "Well?"

Her father crunched into his stiff damask napkin, holding a fistful of it tense against bringing it down in a china-shivering bang. Then, with carefully spaced words, "If I didn't think, Bleema, that you are crazy for the moment, infatuated with--"

"I'm not infatuated!"

"Bleema, Bleema, don't talk to your father so ugly!"

"Well, I guess I know my own mind. I guess I know when I'm in love with the finest, darlingest fellow that ever--"

"You hush that, Bleema! Hush that, while I can hold myself in. That I should live to hear my child make herself common over a loafer--"

"Papa, if you call him another name, I--I--"

"You'll sit right here and hear me out. If you think you're going to let this loafer ruin your own life and the lives of your parents and poor grandmother--"

"Papa, papa, you don't know him! The company are all down on him because they're jealous. Lester Spencer comes from one of the finest old Southern families--"

"Roody, Roody, a _goy_ play-actor--"

"'A _goy_ play-actor'! I notice, mamma, you are the one always likes to brag when the girls and fellows like Norma Beautiful and Allan Hunt and Lester and--and all come up to the house. It's the biggest feather in your cap the way on account of papa the big names got to come running when you invite them."

"Your mother's little nonsenses have got nothing to do with it."

"She reproaches me with having brought about this _goy_ mix-up! Me that has planned each hour of that girl's life like each one was a flower in a garden, A young man, a grand young man like Mr. Feist, crazy in lo--"

"Mrs. Pelz, for God's sake! Mrs. Pelz, please!"

"Rosie, we'll leave Feist out of this."

"Lester Spencer, papa, is one of the finest characters, if only you--"

"I ask you again, Bleema, to cut out such talk while I got the strength left to hold in. It's a nail in my coffin I should live to talk such talk to my little daughter, but it's got to where I've got to say it. Lester Spencer and the fine character you talk about--it's free gossip in all the studios--is one of the biggest low-lifes in the picture-world. He has a reputation with the women that I'm ashamed to mention even before your mother, much less her daughter--"

"Oh, I know what you mean! Oh, you're like all the rest--down on him. You mean that silly talk about him and Norma Beautiful--"

"Oh my God, Roody, listen to her!"

"I can clear that up in a minute. He never cared a thing for her. It was just their always playing in the same pictures, and that silly matinee public, first thing he knew, got to linking their names together."

"Bleema--for God's sake--baby--what do you know about such?"

"Bleema, you're killing your mother! Your mother that used to rock you in your cradle while she stitched on the machine to buy you more comforts--a mother that--"

"Oh, if you're going to begin that!"

"Your poor old grandmother--don't she mean nothing? You saw how she looked just now when they took her out, even before she knows what it's all about--"

"I hope she never has a worse trouble than for me to marry the best--"

Then Mr. Pelz came down with crashing fist that shattered an opalescent wine-glass and sent a great stain sprawling over the cloth.

"By God, I'll kill him first! The dirty hou--"

"Pelz, for God's sake, control yourself!"

'I'll kill him, I tell you, Feist!"

"Roody!"

"You can't scare me that way, dad. I'm no baby to be hollered at like that. I love Lester Spencer, and I'm going to marry him!"

"I'll kill him; I'll--"

"Roody, Roody, for God's sake! 'Sh-h-h, the servants! Williams, close quick all the doors. Roody, for my sake, if not your child's! Mr. Feist, please--please make him, Mr. Feist!"

"Pelz, for God's sake, man, get yourself together! Excitement won't get you anywheres. Calm down. Be human."

Then Mr. Pelz sat down again, but trembling and swallowing back with difficulty. "She got me wild, Feist. You must excuse me. She got me wild --my little girl--my little flower--"

"Papa--dad darling! Don't you think it kills me, too, to see you like this? My own darling papa that's so terribly good. My own darling sweet mamma. Can't you see, darlings, a girl can't help it when--when--life just takes hold of her? I swear to you--I promise you that, when you come to know Lester as I know him you'll think him as fine and--and gorgeous as I do. Mamma, do you think your little Bleema would marry a man who doesn't just love you, and dad, too? It isn't like Lester is a nobody--a high-salaried fellow like him with a future. Why, the best will be none too good! He loves you both--told me so to-day. The one aim in his life is to do big things, to make you both proud, to make his name the biggest--"

"Feist--Feist--can't you talk to her? Tell her it's madness--tell her she's ruining herself."

"Why, Miss Bleema, there's nothing much a--a stranger like me can say at a time like this. It's only unfortunate that I happened to be here. If I were you, though, I think I'd take a little time to think this over. Sometimes a young girl--."

"I have thought it over, Mr. Feist. For weeks and weeks I've thought of nothing else. That's how sure I am--so terribly sure."

"I won't have it, I tell you! I'll wring his--"

"'Sh-h-h, Pelz. If you'll take my advice, you'll handle this thing without threats. Why not, Miss Bleema, even if you do feel so sure, give yourself a little more time to--"

"No! No! No!"

"Just a minute now. If you feel this way so strongly to-night, isn't it just possible that to-morrow, when you wake up, you may see things differently?"

"I tell you I'm going to France with him--on our honeymoon. It's all fixed if--moms--dad--won't you please--darlings--can't you see--my happiness--"

"O God, Roody, were ever parents in such a fix?"

"Listen to me, Miss Bleema, now: I'm an old friend of the family, and you don't need to take exception to what I'm going to suggest. If your heart is so set on this thing, all right then, make up your mind it's an engagement and--"

"By God, Feist, no!"

"Wait, Pelz, I tell you you're making a mistake with your state of excitement."

"Let Mr. Feist talk, Roody."

"Make up your mind as I was saying, Miss Bleema, that this engagement exists between you and--and this young man. Then, instead of doing the hasty thing and marrying next week, you remain here a happy, engaged girl until the company returns in three weeks, and meanwhile you will have time to know your own mind and--"

"No! No! No! I do know it! It's all fixed we're--"

"That's a fine idea of Mr. Feist's, Bleema darling. For mamma's sake, baby. For grandma's. If it's got to be an engagement, hold it until after he gets back. Don't go rushing in. Take time to think a little. France is no place for a honeymoon now--submarines and all."

"Oh, I know! You hope he'll get sunk with a submarine."

"Shame, Miss Bleema; shame!"

"All mamma means, darling, is take a little time and get a--a trousseau like a girl like you has to have. If your heart is so set on it, can't you do that much to please mamma? That much?"

"There's a trick. You want me to wait and then--"

"Miss Bleema, is my promise to you enough that there's no trick? On my respect for your parents and grandmother, there's no trick. If it is only to please them, wait those few weeks and do it more dignified. If it's got to be, then it's got to be. Am I right, Pelz?"

Mr. Pelz turned away, nodding his head, but with lips too wry to speak.

"O my God, yes! Mr. Feist, you're right. Bleema, promise us! Promise!"

"Just a matter of a few weeks more or less, Miss Bleema. Just so your parents are satisfied you know your own mind."

"I do!"

"Then, I say, if you still feel as you do, not even they have the right to interfere."

"Promise us, Bleema; promise us that!"

"I--I'll be engaged on your word of honor--without any fussing about it?"

"An engaged girl, Miss Bleema, like any other engaged girl."

"But dad--look at him--he won't--p-promise," trembling into tears.

"Of course he will--won't you, Pelz? And you know the reputation your father has for a man of his word."

"Will--will he promise?"

"You do; don't you, Pelz?"

Again the nod from the bitter inverted features.

"Now, Miss Bleema?"

"Well then, I--I--p-promise."

On a May-day morning that was a kiss to the cheek and even ingratiated itself into the bale-smelling, truck-rumbling pier-shed, Mr. Lester Spencer, caparisoned for high seas by Fifth Avenue's highest haberdasher, stood off in a little cove of bags and baggage, yachting-cap well down over his eyes, the nattiest thing in nautical ulsters buttoned to the chin. Beside him, Miss Norma Beautiful, her small-featured pink-and-whiteness even smaller and pinker from the depths of a great cart-wheel of rose-colored hat, completely swathed in rose-colored veiling.

"For a snap of my finger I'd spill the beans--that's how stuck on this situation I am!"

Mr. Spencer plunged emphatic arms into large patch-pockets, his chin projecting beyond the muffle of collar.

"Just you try it and see where it lands you!"

Then Miss Beautiful from the rosy depths of hat began to quiver of voice, jerky little sobs catching her up.

"I can't stand it! I b-bit off a b-bigger piece than I can swallow."

"Now, Darling Beautiful, I ask you would your own Lester do anything that wasn't just going to be the making of his girl as well as himself? Is it anything, Angel Beautiful, he is asking you to do except wait until--"

"I can't bear it, I tell you! A little red-haired kike like her! How do I know what I'm letting myself in for? There's only one ground for divorce in this state. What guarantee have I you'll get free on it?"

"My guarantee, Pussy. You're letting yourself in for a pink limousine to match that pink sweetness of yours and a jumping-rope of pearls to match those sweet teeth of yours and--"

"I want black pearls, Lester, like Lucille Du Pont's."

"Black, then. Why, Angel Beautiful, you just know that there's not a hair on any head in the world, much less a red one, I'd change for one of my girl's golden ones. You think I'd ever have known the little Reddie was on earth if she hadn't just flung herself at my head! She could have been six Rudolph Pelz's daughters, and I wouldn't have had eyes for her."

"But, Lester--she--she's right cute. What guarantee have I got?"

"Cross my heart and swear to die, Angel! Haven't I already sworn it to you a thousand thousand times? You wouldn't want me to close my eyes to the chance of a lifetime--you know you wouldn't, Beautiful, when it's your chance as much as mine. Both ours!"

"I--if only it was--over, Lester--all--over!"

"What's three weeks, Angel Beautiful? The very day I'm back I'll pull the trick with the little red head, and then I'm for letting things happen quick."

"And me, what'll I--"

"I'm going to move you into the solid-goldest hotel suite in this here town, Pussy. I'm going to form the Norma Beautiful Film Corporation in my own girl's name, the first pop out of the box. Why, there's just nowhere Rudolph Pelz's son-in-law can't get his girl in the little while I'm going to stick."

"How do I know? How do I know they won't find a way to hold you?"

"Why, Darling Beautiful, when they're through with me, they'll pay me off in my weight in gold. Haven't you said things often enough about your boy's temper when he lets it fly? You think they're going to let me cut up nonsense with that little Reddie of theirs? Why, that old man would pay with his right eye to protect her!"

"O God, it's rotten--a nice fellow like Pelz--a--"

"It's done every day, Gorgeous Beautiful. Anyway, there's no way to really hurt the rich. Look at Warren Norton--the Talcott family paid Warren two hundred cool thousand to give her back quietly. It's done every day, Gorgeousness. Many a fellow like me has gotten himself roped into a thing he wanted to get out of quietly. That little girl lassoed me. I should have eyes for a little Reddie like her with the Deep-Sea Pearl of the world my very own. I'm going to marry you, too, Gorgeousness. I'm going to see you right through, this time. Jump right out of the frying-pan into the hottest, sweetest fire!"

"I tell you I can't stand it! Promising to marry me with another one to see through before you get to me. It--it's terrible! I--"

"There you go again! The Norma Beautiful Film Corporation doesn't tickle my pink rose on the eardrums! She doesn't want it! Wouldn't have it!"

"I do, Lester; I do--only--only--I--the little Reddie--it's not right. She's a sweet little thing. I'm afraid, Lester--I think I must be going crazy! I wish to God I could hate you the way you ought to be hated. I tell you I can't stand it. You sailing off like this. The coming back--her--I'll kill myself during the ceremony. I--"

"You create a scene down here and you'll be sorry!"

"Lester--please!"

"They'll be here any minute now. They're late as it is. Look-- everybody's on board already! One more blast, and I'll have to go, too. You just kick up nasty at the last minute and watch me!"

"I won't, Lester; I won't! I swear to God! Only, be good to me; be sweet to me, darling! Say good-by before they--she comes. I'm all right, darling. Please--please--"

He caught her to him then, and back in the sheltering cove of baggage thrust back her head, kissing deep into the veiling.

"Beautiful! Angel Beautiful!"

"Swear to me, Lester, you'll see me through."

"I swear, Beautiful."

"Swear to me, or hope to die and lose your luck!"

He kissed her again so that her hat tilted backward, straining at its pins.

"Hope to die and lose my luck."

"My own preciousness!" she said, her eyes tear-glazed and yearning up into his.

"'Sh-h, Pussy; here comes Sol Sopinsky to hurry me on board. Funny the Pelz crowd don't show up. Quit it! Here they come! That's their car. Cut it--quick!"

With noiselessly thrown clutch, the Pelz limousine drew up between an aisle of bales, its door immediately flung open. First, Mr. Pelz emerging, with an immediate arm held back for Mrs. Pelz. Last, Miss Pelz, a delightful paradox of sheer summer silk and white-fox furs, her small face flushed and carefully powdered up about the eyes.

"There he is, dad! Over there with Norma and Uncle Sol!"

"Don't run so, Bleema; he'll come over to you."

But she was around and through the archipelago of baggage.

"Lester darling! There was a tie-up at Thirty-third Street. I thought I'd die! Here's a little package of letters, love, one for each day on the steamer. Lester, have you got everything--are you all ready to leave your girlie--Hello, Norma--Uncle Sol! Lester are you--you sorry to leave you--your--"

"Now, now--no water-works!"

"My all! My own boy!" She drew him, to hide the quickening trembling of her lips, back behind the shelter of piled baggage.

"Lester darling--I--I didn't sleep a wink all night! I--I'm so nervous, dear. What if a submarine should catch you? What if you meet a French girl and fall in--"

"Now, now, Reddie! Is that what you think of your boy?"

"I don't, dearest; I don't! I keep telling myself I'm a silly--What's three weeks? But when it means separation from the sweetest, dearest--"

"'Sh-h-h, Angel darling! There's the last blast, and your father's angry. See him beckoning! The company's been on board twenty minutes already. Look--there's the sailors lined up at the gangplank--Bleema--"

"Promise me, Lester--"

"I do! I do promise! Anything! Look, girlie: Miss Beautiful will feel hurt the way we left her standing. It isn't nice--our hiding this way."

"I can't bear, dearest, to see you go--"

"Look! See--there's David Feist come down, too. You don't want him to see my girl make a cry baby of herself over a three weeks' trip--"

"You'll write, Lester, and cable every day?"

"You just know I will!"

"You won't go near the war?"

"You just know I won't!"

"You--"

"Your father, Bleema--let's not get him sore, hiding back here. Come; they'll draw up the plank on me."

"I'll be waving out from the edge of the pier, darling. I've got a special permit to go out there. I just couldn't stand not seeing my boy up to the last second. It's terrible for you to sneak off on a boat like this, darling, without flags and music the way it was before the war. I want music and flags when my boy goes off. Oh, Lester, I'll be working so hard on the sweetest little trousseau and the sweetest little--"

"Bleema, please! There's Miss Beautiful overhearing every word. Please!" "Well, good-by, Miss Beautiful; don't walk off with the studio while we're gone--take care of yourself--"

"Good-by--Mr. Spencer--_b-bon voyage_!"

"Hi, Mr. Feist, mighty handsome of you to come down to see me off!"