miss billie married-第20节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
‘‘Oh； yes。''
‘‘What's he doing now？''
‘‘Several things。 He's up to his eyes in work。
As you probably have heard； he met with a
severe accident last summer； and lost the use of
his right arm for many months。 I believe they
thought at one time he had lost it forever。 But
it's all right now； and he has several commissions
for portraits。 Alice says he's doing ideal heads
again； too。''
‘‘Same old ‘Face of a Girl'？''
‘‘I suppose so； though Alice didn't say。 Of
course his special work just now is painting the
portrait of Miss Marguerite Winthrop。 You
may have heard that he tried it last year and
and didn't make quite a success of it。''
‘‘Yes。 My sister Belle told me。 She hears
from Billy once in a while。 Will it be a go； this
time？''
‘‘We'll hope sofor everybody's sake。 I
imagine no one has seen it yetit's not finished；
but Alice says''
Calderwell turned abruptly； a quizzical smile
on his face。
‘‘See here； my son；'' he interposed； ‘‘it strikes
me that this Alice is saying a good dealto you！
Who is she？''
Arkwright gave a light laugh。
‘‘Why； I told you。 She is Miss Alice Greggory；
Mrs。 Henshaw's friendand mine。 I
have known her for years。''
‘‘Hm…m； what is she like？''
‘‘Like？ Why； she's likelike herself； of
course。 You'll have to know Alice。 She's the
salt of the earthAlice is；'' smiled Arkwright；
rising to his feet with a remonstrative gesture；
as he saw Calderwell pick up his coat。 ‘‘What's
your hurry？''
‘‘Hm…m；'' commented Calderwell again；
ignoring the question。 ‘‘And when； may I ask；
do you intend to appropriate thisersalt
toerahseason your own life with；
as I might sayeh？''
Arkwright laughed。 There was not the slightest
trace of embarrassment in his face。
‘‘Never。 _You're_ on the wrong track； this time。
Alice and I are good friendsalways have been；
and always will be； I hope。''
‘‘Nothing more？''
‘‘Nothing more。 I see her frequently。 She is
musical； and the Henshaws are good enough to
ask us there often together。 You will meet her；
doubtless； now； yourself。 She is frequently at
the Henshaw home。''
‘‘Hm…m。'' Calderwell still eyed his host
shrewdly。 ‘‘Then you'll give me a clear field；
eh？''
‘‘Certainly。'' Arkwright's eyes met his friend's
gaze without swerving。
‘‘All right。 However； I suppose you'll tell me；
as I did you； once； that a right of way in such a
case doesn't mean a thoroughfare for the party
interested。 If my memory serves me； I gave
you right of way in Paris to win the affections
of a certain elusive Miss Billy here in
Boston； if you could。 But I see you didn't
seem to improve your opportunities；'' he finished
teasingly。
Arkwright stooped； of a sudden； to pick up a
bit of paper from the floor。
‘‘No；'' he said quietly。 ‘‘I didn't seem to
improve my opportunities。'' This time he did
not meet Calderwell's eyes。
The good…byes had been said when Calderwell
turned abruptly at the door。
‘‘Oh； I say； I suppose you're going to that
devil's carnival at Jordan Hall to…morrow night。''
‘‘Devil's carnival！ You don't meanCyril
Henshaw's piano recital！''
‘‘Sure I do；'' grinned Calderwell； unabashed。
‘‘And I'll warrant it'll be a devil's carnival； too。
Isn't Mr。 Cyril Henshaw going to play his own
music？ Oh； I know I'm hopeless； from your
standpoint； but I can't help it。 I like mine with
some go in it； and a tune that you can find without
hunting for it。 And I don't like lost spirits
gone mad that wail and shriek through ten perfectly
good minutes； and then die with a gasping
moan whose home is the tombs。 However； you're
going； I take it。''
‘‘Of course I am；'' laughed the other。 ‘‘You
couldn't hire Alice to miss one shriek of those
spirits。 Besides； I rather like them myself； you
know。''
‘‘Yes； I suppose you do。 You're brought up
on itin your business。 But me for the ‘Merry
Widow' and even the hoary ‘Jingle Bells' every
time！ However； I'm going to be thereout of
respect to the poor fellow's family。 And； by the
way； that's another thing that bowled me over
Cyril's marriage。 Why； Cyril hates women！''
‘‘Not all womenwe'll hope；'' smiled Arkwright。
‘‘Do you know his wife？''
‘‘Not much。 I used to see her a little at Billy's。
Music teacher； wasn't she？ Then she's the same
sort； I suppose。''
‘‘But she isn't；'' laughed Arkwright。 Oh；
she taught music； but that was only because of
necessity； I take it。 She's domestic through and
through； with an overwhelming passion for
making puddings and darning socks； I hear。 Alice
says she believes Mrs。 Cyril knows every dish
and spoon by its Christian name； and that there's
never so much as a spool of thread out of order
in the house。''
‘‘But how does Cyril stand itthe trials and
tribulations of domestic life？ Bertram used to
declare that the whole Strata was aquiver with
fear when Cyril was composing； and I remember
him as a perfect bear if anybody so much as
whispered when he was in one of his moods。 I
never forgot the night Bertram and I were up in
William's room trying to sing ‘When Johnnie
comes marching home；' to the accompaniment
of a banjo in Bertram's hands； and a guitar in
mine。 Gorry！ it was Hugh that went marching
home that night。''
‘‘Oh； well； from reports I reckon Mrs。 Cyril
doesn't play either a banjo or a guitar；'' smiled
Arkwright。 ‘‘Alice says she wears rubber heels
on her shoes； and has put hushers on all the chair…
legs； and felt…mats between all the plates and
saucers。 Anyhow； Cyril is building a new house；
and he looks as if he were in a pretty healthy
condition； as you'll see to…morrow night。''
‘‘Humph！ I wish he'd make his music healthy；
then；'' grumbled Calderwell； as he opened the
door。
CHAPTER XII
FOR BILLYSOME ADVICE
February brought busy days。 The public
opening of the Bohemian Ten Club Exhibition
was to take place the sixth of March； with a
private view for invited guests the night before；
and it was at this exhibition that Bertram planned
to show his portrait of Marguerite Winthrop。
He also； if possible； wished to enter two or three
other canvases； upon which he was spending all
the time he could get。
Bertram felt that he was doing very good work
now。 The portrait of Marguerite Winthrop was
coming on finely。 The spoiled idol of society had
at last found a pose and a costume that suited her；
and she was graciously pleased to give the artist
almost as many sittings as he wanted。 The
‘‘elusive something'' in her face； which had
previously been so baffling； was now already caught
and held bewitchingly on his canvas。 He was
confident that the portrait would be a success。
He was also much interested in another piece of
work which he intended to show called ‘‘The
Rose。'' The model for this was a beautiful young
girl he had found selling flowers with her father
in a street booth at the North End。
On the whole； Bertram was very happy these
days。 He could not； to be sure； spend quite so
much time with Billy as he wished； but she
understood； of course； as did he； that his work must
come first。 He knew that she tried to show him
that she understood it。 At the same time； he
could not help thinking； occasionally； that Billy
did sometimes mind his necessary absorption in
his painting。
To himself Bertram owned that Billy was； in
some ways； a puzzle to him。 Her conduct was
still erratic at times。 One day he would seem to
be everything to her； the nextalmost nothing；
judging by the ease with which she relinquished
his society and substituted that of some one else：
Arkwright； or Calderwell； for instance。
And that was another thing。 Bertram was
ashamed to hint even to himself that he was
jealous of either of those men。 Surely； after what
had happened； after Billy's emphatic assertion
that she had never loved any one but himself；
it would seem not only absurd； but disloyal； that
he should doubt for an instant Billy's entire
devotion to him； and yetthere were times when
he wished he _could_ come home and not always
find Alice Greggory； Calderwell； Arkwright； or
all three of them strumming the piano in the
drawing…room！ At such times； always； though；
if he did feel impatient； he immediately demanded
of himself： ‘‘Are you； then； the kind of husband
that begrudges your wife young companions of
her own age and tastes to help her while away the
hours that you cannot possibly spend with her
yourself？''
This question； and the answer that his better
self always gave to it； were usually sufficient to
send him into some florists for a bunch of violets
for Billy； or into a candy shop on a like atoning
errand。
As to BillyBilly； too； was busy these days
chie
