CHAPTER XVI

ONE END OF THE STRING

Breakfast was served in the little blue-and-white breakfast-room. A fire burned there cheerfully in the grate, making it possible to leave the doors open on to the rain-beaten terrace. The storms of the night had subsided into a steady, hard downpour.

“What a day!” Miss Frazier exclaimed when she appeared.

Kate had come into the room just ahead of her. Moved by an impulse of affection she went to her aunt and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for that beautiful party,” she said. “It was gorgeous.”

Miss Frazier was pleased. “Thank you, my dear, for paying back so, in being happy about it, the little that is done for you. ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’ may be, but the art of receiving graciously is a rare and beautiful accomplishment. I hope Elsie’s experience with Mrs. Van Vorst-Smith didn’t entirely keep the evening from being ‘gorgeous’ for her, too. Where is she?”

“Dressing, I think.”

At this moment Miss Frazier was summoned to the telephone. “The same gentleman who wouldn’t give his name yesterday,” Isadora informed her.

“Don’t wait for me, Kate. I’m not having grapefruit.”

When Aunt Katherine returned it was plain to see that she was greatly stirred, though trying hard to be calm and matter-of-fact.

“I shall have to go to town,” she told Kate. “And I shall be gone all day, probably until rather late to-night. In spite of the rain I think I had better take the car.”

Then Elsie came in. She sat down languidly at the breakfast table and leaned her cheek on her hand. Everything that Effie offered she refused.

“Aren’t you going to have any breakfast at all?” Miss Frazier asked.

“No. I thought I could eat. But when I see things I know I can’t. I think I’ll be excused if I may.”

Miss Frazier looked at her keenly. “I am afraid you are ill. Come, let me feel your forehead. Yes, it is hot. You have a temperature almost certainly. And the shadows under your eyes! Is this what a party does to you? What a pity that I must leave for Boston at once.”

She turned to the maid Effie. “Effie, tell Bertha to get Doctor Hanscom on the telephone and ask him to come over here before office hours. Then she is to help Elsie back to bed.”

“Bed! Oh, no. Please! Please, Aunt Katherine!”

“Why, yes. Bed isn’t so terrible as all that! You may read or knit, until Doctor Hanscom arrives and gives other orders, anyway. Kate will sit with you so that you won’t be lonely. Yes, indeed, you must go to bed.”

Elsie was very much distressed at this turn of affairs. Kate saw dismay in her face, and she easily guessed the reason. Of course, being tucked up in bed and getting the attention and care of an invalid would make running away to-day almost impossible. But there was no question of Miss Frazier’s being obeyed. She expected obedience and she got it.

When Elsie had left the room Miss Frazier forced herself to take up conversation lightly and naturally for the remainder of the meal, but Kate did not fail to notice that her fingers shook slightly as she lifted her toast and that her dark eyes were unusually bright. Evidently the “gentleman who will not give his name” had had some news of importance. Kate felt confident that that gentleman was the detective, Mr. O’Brien.

“I finished your book last night,” Miss Frazier was saying. “I understand your enthusiasm. It is literature and much more. The author must have deep and even esoteric wisdom. One wonders very much who and what he is, the author. But whoever he is, even if this book is all he has to show, he is a great man. Has it occurred to you, Kate, how much, how extraordinarily, like your mother, Hazel, the girl in the story, is? It might be a direct portrait.”

Kate laughed. “Oh, have you discovered that, too? Even Mother had to admit it—that in looks, anyway, Hazel was exactly herself when she was that age. But I say she is still like Hazel, old as she is!”

“Thirty-six isn’t exactly aged, you know. One might very well keep some remnants of looks even until then.” Aunt Katherine was smiling. “But it is a strange coincidence how a person of the imagination can so echo a person in life. I was fairly startled last night when I realized how vivid the resemblance was.”

But though Kate heard and replied to all her aunt’s remarks during that breakfast, her mind was most of the time on other matters, and if Miss Frazier could have known, Kate under her calm exterior was hiding a heart as perturbed as her own.

Kate was glad when Miss Frazier rose. She assured her that she was very well able to amuse herself at home this rainy day, and that she would do everything for Elsie that she could. Yes, she would see to it that she stayed in bed! Yes, she would read to her, if Elsie felt like listening. Yes, Aunt Katherine was not to worry. And so Miss Frazier departed, and Kate was left virtually in charge of the house, the responsibility for things quite hers.

Of course, Kate knew perfectly well that Elsie would not want her to sit with her, no need even to ask about that. And Kate must hurry to send her telegram. Beyond the portals of sleep she had decided, or possibly it had been decided for her, that the special delivery letter would not make things happen quickly enough. Katherine must be wired for. She was needed to-day. Kate had waked with this determination full-blown. But how could she risk leaving the house now to send the wire, with Elsie in the desperate mood that was so obvious? How could Kate be sure that Bertha would not help Elsie to run away in her absence? Bertha adored Elsie, and Kate herself had reason to know that when Elsie pleaded it was easier to do her wish than not. She realized, of course, that a telegram may be given over the telephone; but her inexperience and shyness made her doubt her ability in such a complicated procedure. Besides, the bill would be charged to Aunt Katherine in that case.

“I shall just have to chance it,” she decided. “Elsie needn’t know I am out of the house at all, and I can hurry.” She would run up to her room and get her cape and hat as quietly as possible. She would have to slip down into the kitchen then and borrow an umbrella from Julia.

But Bertha, administering to Elsie, heard the door of Kate’s closet when a surprising little gust of wind banged it shut while Kate was inside reaching for her hat. When Kate had fumbled for the knob and opened the door, Bertha had come into her room. At once Kate noticed that Bertha, too, was labouring under great excitement. Her cheeks were on fire and she was simply quivering with suppressed emotion of some sort.

“Oh, Miss Kate,” she cried, nervously, looking at the hat in Kate’s hand. “Are you going out?”

Well, no help for it now. Elsie had heard, of course. But Kate was much bothered. “Yes, on an errand. I’ll be gone almost no time at all, though.” This she spoke loudly, meaning that Elsie should not miss it.

“Oh, if you are really going into the village _could_ you do an errand for Miss Elsie?”

Ho, ho! Was this the thin ruse Elsie meant to use, to get her out of the way?

“Perhaps,” Kate said, noncommittally.

“That fixes everything nicely then.” Bertha took a deep breath of relief. “I would go myself but Miss Frazier expects me to see the doctor when he comes, in order to report to her. And then there is all my work. Wait a minute.”

Bertha hurried back into Elsie’s room and Kate heard a low murmuring between them. When she returned she had Elsie’s purse in her hand. “Here is some money. Miss Elsie says to use only that that’s tied in the handkerchief.”

So! Elsie was letting her pocketbook go. Last night, Kate remembered, Elsie had taken it when starting toward the door. And running away she would surely need it. Kate recalled her first motion to decline the purse and tuck the handkerchief with the coin tied in its corner into her own. With Elsie’s pocketbook in her possession, Elsie was just so much the safer.

“What does she want?”

“Half a dozen eggs. A head of lettuce. Some bread.”

Kate stared. Bertha stared back at her, nervously. But Kate restrained any exclamations and simply nodded. When Bertha realized that she was not going to be questioned, relief like sunshine overspread her flushed face.

“And will you be as quick as possible?” she asked.

Again Kate was pleasantly surprised. “Yes, I’ll be as quick as I can,” she agreed. “If Elsie will promise to stay in bed until luncheon time.”

Bertha looked at her in genuine astonishment at that. “But of course. Miss Frazier has ordered that she spend the day in bed.”

“No, she must promise me herself. You tell her.”

Elsie had heard. She called out now, “Yes, I promise. And do please hurry, Kate.”

Kate was deeply relieved. Now she could absent herself from the house without fear of finding Elsie flown when she returned. “And whatever you do, Kate Marshall, and whatever they say about it, don’t let them charge those things at the store to Aunt Katherine,” Elsie called again.

“You haven’t an umbrella,” Bertha said, bringing her Elsie’s, a gay green silk one with an ivory handle. “It’s a wild day for July, and I’m not at all certain Miss Frazier would like your going out like this. If you could only have the car—but it’s gone to town with her.”

“Yes, I know. And you needn’t feel responsible. I have an errand on my own account, you know.”

But Kate did wonder much about Elsie’s errand. “I think,” she mused, “it’s a wild-goose chase Aunt Katherine is on in town, and those detectives, too. Where they _might_ do some good, and find some _clues_, is right here. Who was that man in the garden? Why all this buying of groceries? If there is a snarl of some sort that needs unravelling, and if Elsie has anything to do with it, the end of the string is right here. But how do I know the snarl ought to be unravelled by detectives—that it’s any of their business? Oh, heavens! I must run to the telegraph office. Mother is terribly needed this very minute.”

At the Western Union Station she did not study long over the wording of her message. Time was too precious, she felt, for even a minute’s delay, if Katherine was to catch the noon train from Middletown.

A mix-up here come first train nobody sick or dead Kate.

She was aware that those ten words would worry her mother unspeakably. But how, in the limits of a telegram (Kate had never conceived of the possibility of a telegram being over ten words in length!), was she to persuade her mother to take the next train if she was not to be worried? No, the only way to make absolutely sure of her coming was to frighten her into it.

The man who took the message looked at Kate curiously. He knew perfectly well who Kate was and wondered very much about the “mix-up.” He thought Kate peculiarly self-contained for a young lady who found herself in a situation that necessitated that message. If he had only known, however, Kate’s calm exterior was entirely assumed. She was more excited, perhaps, than she had ever been in her life before, and full of presentiments of even greater excitement to come. Sending the wire, though, was a great relief. In a few minutes Katherine herself, ’way off in quiet Ashland, would be concerned in the affair. With Katherine once “in it”, Kate was assured things must somehow turn out right.

Now for those puzzling groceries.

When she came out of Holt and Holt’s with her purchases, Jack Denton suddenly appeared at her shoulder. He was without an umbrella, but in a raincoat and felt hat that required none.

“May I walk along with you?” he asked.

Kate was very glad to see him. His high spirits brought relief from the strain and confusion in her mind. Gallantly, and with the air of courtesy that was so delightful in him, he took her bundles from her and then her umbrella. With laughter and exchange of party remembrances they started off together through the rain toward home.

But before they had gone half the distance Jack turned serious.

“Do you know,” he said, “at our dinner last night (Mother gave a dinner before your dance) some of us decided to go on strike, to stand up for our own ideas more practically against our elders. Younger generation stuff. We all used to like Elsie tremendously, and now we are going to treat her just exactly as though nothing had happened, if she’ll let us. I think she will, too. She was all right last night.”

Kate turned to look up at Jack under the umbrella. The brown eyes that returned her look had lost their easy laughter and were earnest with the glow of a _cause_.

“Granny’s had her way long enough,” he continued. “Our mothers and fathers never really cared a bit, you know. It’s just those more ancient ones. They barely survived the shock. You see _their_ daughters and sons had been playing around with him, and any one of their daughters might have married him. Granny says her grandson (meaning me) is going to have the protection her daughter didn’t have (meaning Mother). It’s really just a joke. And we only humoured ’em because they were so rabid. Now we’re sorry we were so soft. I wanted to tell you.”

“I don’t understand,” Kate said, quickly. “Not one word. Can’t you explain better? What happened that was so awful? What was the thing that shocked them so? And what has it to do with Elsie?”

Until this minute she had not wanted such information, when it came, to come from outside. She had felt that to learn that way would be disloyal of her. But now that her whole mind was turned to helping Elsie she wanted to know all she could. She wanted to get hold of the end of the tangle, any way, and perhaps then there would be some chance of straightening it out. The information that Jack was apparently able to give her would surely constitute that end; once having that in her fingers she might unravel snarl after snarl for herself.

Jack, however, was not prepared for her questions. He whistled, startled. “Don’t you know what the fuss has been about?” he asked. “Don’t you know about anything? I thought you were only pretending yesterday.”

“No, truly. Not a thing. Aunt Katherine was surprised that I didn’t know, too. But she wouldn’t tell me. You tell me.”

“Why, it doesn’t seem fair. I thought, of course, you knew. But you did know there was something?”

“Yes, almost the first minute I got here. Elsie acted so queerly. And then she said she hardly knew you. And all the time there you were living right next door. It was puzzling. Now tell me.”

“Well, if they want you to live in ignorance it’s hardly up to me to enlighten you, is it?” Jack was very ill at ease.

“Your grandmother would have told me if I had let her. And Elsie herself acts as though I knew. She has accused me several times. I’ve wired to my mother to come. I am frightened about Elsie. She is in danger of doing—oh, something that would be dreadful for Aunt Katherine, and for herself, too. Aunt Katherine is away for the day. The more I know the more I can help. Please tell me just everything you can.”

“I hate doing that. But if it helps you to help—— Anyway, it’s only fair to you. You ought to know what everybody else knows. Elsie’s father, Nick Frazier, is a thief. He stole some securities, or something, from Miss Frazier.”

Kate did not even exclaim. She had slowed her steps for the great revelation and was now gazing straight ahead. It took some seconds for her to react at all to what Jack had said.

Jack paced on beside her, protecting her from the gusty rain by dexterous manipulations of the green silk umbrella.

“That wouldn’t have been enough in itself to make them so rabid, though,” he went on, worriedly. “You see they blame your aunt some. She adopted him, you know—anyway, let him call her ‘aunt’—and took him into her home and prepared him herself for Harvard. He wasn’t even in school. He was working in some mill in spite of being just a kid, fourteen or something like that, when she discovered him. He hadn’t any family—didn’t even know who his family were, had been brought up in some institution or other. Well, Miss Frazier treated him just as though he belonged to her, gave him her name and everything. This is all an old story in this village. Rose and I were brought up on it. Then when he was in college Miss Frazier expected him to be asked everywhere to holiday affairs here, and she gave parties in her house. She acted just as though he were a Frazier really. The young people liked him, though it seems he was something of a diamond in the rough, you know, ’spite of Harvard and all. But the parents grumbled. That was our grandmothers, you see. They only let it go on because your aunt was a Frazier and could do almost anything, they being such a fine old New England family. The parents always said no good would come of it, though. ‘Blood would tell.’”

“Yes, yes,” Kate agreed, tremulously. “That’s what your grandmother said last night.”

“What! Still mumbling over that? Talk about fixed ideas! When he stole those securities—he did it while your aunt was abroad or somewhere—and she let him go to prison for it, everybody said, ‘Now Katherine Frazier’s learned her lesson, I guess.’ That was two years ago or more. But then right away his wife died, and Elsie came to live here with Miss Frazier, and Miss Frazier expected us all to treat her just as we always had when she visited before, just as though she _were_ Miss Frazier’s regular niece and not the daughter of a convict who doesn’t even know his own name. That got the old folks’ goat right enough. They said they’d tried that once on their own children. But would they let it be perpetrated on their grandchildren? You can bet, no. And there was a great to-do. And, well, we haven’t been exactly cordial to Elsie.”

Kate said nothing when he stopped. Jack wondered what she was thinking. He felt very hot and ashamed. “But that’s all past now,” he said. “Elsie isn’t to blame. Why should she suffer?”

“Now I’ll keep my mouth shut until she speaks,” he told himself.

But Kate did not break the silence until they came to the foot of the steps leading up to Miss Frazier’s front door. Then she looked up at Jack as she took her bundles from him. “Thanks for telling me everything like that,” she said, gravely. “I think it’s all pretty hard on Aunt Katherine and just simply awful for Elsie. No wonder she thought I was a beast. Why, I called her a ‘thief’ herself, and said we were being followed by that detective as though we were thieves. Now I understand a lot of things! I’ve—I’ve—just _wallowed_ in _breaks_. I hope my mother gets here to-night.”

“Do you play Mah Jong?” Jack asked quickly. “Why don’t you and Elsie come over to play this afternoon? There’s nothing much we can do out-of-doors.”

“Elsie’s sick in bed, so I’m afraid we can’t. Thank you for carrying the things—and for everything.” In spite of her perturbation she flashed her peculiar Chinese smile when Jack raised his hat. What nice manners he had!

Jack himself, walking slowly back to his own door, was obviously deep in thought. But in the midst of worrying over the ethics of what he had done in going into all that unpleasant business with Kate, he suddenly thought, “She isn’t nearly so pretty as last night. But it’s awfully jolly when she smiles, and I guess when she isn’t being pestered with sickening scandal and such stuff she smiles a lot.”