Romance Classics (9 page)

“Sally, you forget yourself,” Geraldine cut in. “There are limits beyond which even you should not go!”

Sally nodded, quite undisturbed.

“Oh, quite. I’ve often heard of them.” She made a little careless gesture of dismissal. “Of course, I think I had some faint hope of catching Tip on the rebound. I’m that fool that never gives up hope no matter how high the cards are stacked against me. But you and Tip are putting on a pretty good show of being the traditionally happy couple, reunited — ”

“Tip and I
are
the traditionally happy couple.” Geraldine said through her teeth and marveled in her heart that she could make her voice so convincing.

Sally studied her for a moment, obviously a little surprised.

“Could be, at that,” she admitted finally, though there was frank doubt in her voice. “Of course, you were in love with Tip first”

“First, last and always,” Geraldine said thinly.

Once more Sally was briefly silent, studying her.

“That’s good news,” she said at last “Then that leaves me a clear field with Phil — glory be!”

And Geraldine, adding lie to convincing lie, said evenly, “A completely clear field.”

“Cheers!” said Sally and once more that impish, faintly malicious grin touched her thin-lipped mouth. “That means, then, that you won’t try to stick any spokes into my wheel.”

Geraldine drew a long deep breath and turned back to the mirror, but knew her hand was trembling and dared not try to manipulate her lipstick.

“Nary a spoke.” She tried desperately to make her voice light and careless.

Once more Sally put out her half-finished cigarette and stood up. “Then what are we wasting time in here for? Let’s get back to work. I’ve a man-sized job cut out for me — but then I never cared for anything that could be won without a fight.”

At the door, Geraldine put a hand on Sally’s arm and said before she could check the words, “Sally — don’t hurt him.”

Sally paused and looked at her sharply.

“Hurt him?” she repeated as though puzzled, but a malicious imp danced briefly in her eyes. “Then you aren’t quite indifferent to Phil after all.”

“Phil’s a very decent person. I like him. All his friends do. He doesn’t deserve to be kicked around, Sally. Give him a break!” Geraldine pleaded rashly, and knew that she was skating on very thin ice.

Sally studied her for a moment and then tipped her red head back and laughed a little, silently.

“Oh, I’ll pack him in cotton wool and take the very best care of him,” she promised carelessly. “After all, I loathe my miserable little job and the miserable little pay check. I could be terribly good to any man who could pay my bills and give me a home, as Phil can! Oh, you may be quite sure I shan’t hurt him! I’ll treat him as though he were spun glass!”

Geraldine knew she had made a fool of herself in offering that little involuntary plea for Phil. Sally had
almost
believed her when she had protested that she loved Tip, not Phil. But her plea for Phil’s happiness had destroyed that faint conviction.

Mrs. Parker made her announcement at the dinner table, quite secure in her conviction that any plans she might make would be welcomed by anyone fortunate enough to be concerned in those plans.

“I have a surprise for you two children,” she beamed happily. “I think it’s high time we returned some of the many social obligations we’ve all assumed this spring, so I’ve leased a house at Hendersonville and we’re all going up this weekend. I’ve invited a dozen guests and I’m sure we’re all going to have a marvelous time.”

Tip looked up, puzzled.

“Isn’t it rather a long pull to Hendersonville just for a week-end, Miss Lucy?” he objected mildly. “After all, I’m a working man — remember?”

Mrs. Parker said swiftly, “I’m quite sure that ridiculous job of yours can do quite nicely without you for a month or two.”

Tip grinned without mirth.

“I’m quite sure of it, too,” he agreed. “But I’ve been hoping they wouldn’t discover it!”

“Your attitude towards the mills is really absurd, my dear,” said his mother pompously. “After all, you do own, with my stock which will some day be yours, forty-nine percent of the shares — ”

“And it takes fifty-one to be boss, Miss Lucy,” he cut in.

“Of course — but with forty-nine percent of the stock, there is surely no reason why you should insist on working like a common laborer,” protested Mrs. Parker, little flags of color deepening her delicately applied make-up. “If you want to work in the mills, why not take a decent job?”

“As soon as I know enough about what makes things go around down there, maybe I’ll be promoted to an office job.”

“Oh, well, if you insist — but naturally, you’ll have a vacation. I happen to know enough about the mills to know that every employee, even if only a day laborer, is entitled to two weeks’ vacation.”

Tip nodded. “I’d love to come for a couple of weeks. What house did you take?”

“The Behring place, at Silver Lake. Remember it? It’s one of the nicest places there for entertaining — there are twelve bedrooms!”

“Sounds impressive,” Tip agreed. “Who’s corning the first session?”

Mrs. Parker listed a dozen names, representative names as she considered them, of the town’s “nicest” people.

Tip nodded, his eyes shadowed.

“They’re fun,” he said pleasantly. “Have them for the first week, then Gerry and I’ll gather up a few of our own for the second?”

“Some of your mill friends, I suppose,” said his mother acidly.

“Sure, why not?” asked Tip mildly, but there was a glint in his eyes.

Mrs. Parker saw the glint but she refused to heed its warning.

“I do think it’s too utterly absurd of you, Tip, to make friends of such common people,” she burst out but Tip stopped her.

“Well, who shall we have for our first house party in the mountains, Gerry my gal?” he asked lazily, later on, when they were alone.

“Ted and Betsy Hammond,” said Geraldine lightly.

“Naturally, since Betsy is your best friend, and Ted’s a good guy,” Tip agreed, added quietly, “Mind if we ask Phil?”

Geraldine had schooled herself to hear Phil’s name without outward sign of emotion, and now she answered levelly, “Of course not, why should I? But, if you ask him, you should ask Sally Walker.”

“Sal is on the prowl, isn’t she?” said Tip, suddenly grim.

“Very definitely after Phil.” Geraldine could not check the words in time.

Tip studied her for a moment with that oddly intent gaze.

“And you don’t like the idea?” he suggested.

Geraldine tensed, and was grateful that she sat in the shadows, away from the one lighted lamp in the room. They hid her expression.

“Well, I think Phil’s a little too decent just to be married for what he can give a woman in the way of financial support,” she said.

Tip nodded.

“Right you are! But I don’t think you need to worry. I think Phil’s quite capable of looking after himself and guarding himself from the predatory women of Sal’s kind!” His tone was so casual that Geraldine knew he was now quite unconscious of her own secret agitation. “But it wouldn’t upset you to have Phil and Sally included in our house party?”

“Of course not,” said Geraldine and was dimly proud that her voice sounded quiet and matter of fact. “We’ll have to be on the alert to see that Betsy and Sally don’t tangle. Sally was after Ted for a while, and Betsy hasn’t forgiven her. Whether for pursuing him, or for handing him back, I’m not quite sure.”

“Either being, of course, in any woman’s eyes, a deadly insult,” Tip agreed with a grin.

And so it was settled. Phil and Sally, Ted and Betsy would comprise the week’s house party when Tip and Geraldine went to the mountains.

Geraldine, lying awake in the darkness long after the house had quieted down, reminded herself that it wasn’t going to be anything like a pleasant week. It would be at best bitter-sweet.

When Tip’s car came to a stop beside the wide stone steps of the big, rambling, yet somehow beautiful old house, they were instantly surrounded by a laughing, chattering group, for the guests for the week’s house party had arrived a few hours before them.

“A fine thing! The guests have to welcome the hostess!” Betsy accused; she thrust her hand through Geraldine’s arm and said cheerfully, “Here, let me show you to your room, Gerry. I got here first, so of course I snagged the best room in the house, but there’s still a nice little room about the size of the Union Depot back home for you.”

Geraldine laughed and she and Betsy went up the stairs together, to a wide, airy room with its windows open to a breath-taking view of green-blue mountains, and a meadow where sleek, fat cattle grazed in the deepening twilight. Betsy said sharply:

“Gerry, what gives with that Walker gal here? Did you plan a house party that had to be blighted at the very beginning?

Geraldine laughed.

“Sorry, Betsy, but I couldn’t help myself. Tip had his heart set on getting Phil up here this week, and of course, you can’t ask Phil these days without asking Sally.”

Betsy looked sulky.

“No, I suppose not,” she agreed reluctantly. “How any guy as decent as Phil could take up his time with that — that werewolf — ”

Geraldine was grateful that she stood with her back to Betsy and was slipping her dark traveling dress over her head so that the other girl could not see her face.

“Oh, well, if all of a sudden somebody slips poison into her soup, there’ll be few tears shed,” said Betsy grimly. “It’s a superb setup for a ‘whodunit,’ come to think of it: a house party in the mountains, a victim everybody hates, murder, everybody with a motive, trying like mad to hide it — ”

“Don’t be a goof, darling,” Geraldine protested. “After all, you said yourself she had kept her hands off Ted — lately.”

Betsy scowled.

“Oh, sure, she handed him back to me, almost as good as new,” she said grimly.

“Betsy, why don’t you and Ted sit down and have a nice long heart-to-heart talk and get all the poison out of your system, and then forget that it ever happened?”

Betsy looked up hopefully.

“You think that would help?” she asked uneasily. “We’ve both been very carefully walking around the subject.”

Geraldine patted her shoulder comfortingly.

“Stop being so darned cagy, and have it out with him, Betsy,” she urged and Betsy grinned damply and promised.

Dinner started the house party off nicely. Mrs. Parker was very gracious and friendly, though there was the faintest possible air of condescension in her graciousness, like that of a great lady entertaining those not
quite
her equal. But the guests were accustomed to this attitude and took it good-naturedly.

After the enervating heat of midsummer in Marthasville, the chilly nights and gloriously brisk days were very pleasant. Every one reacted, and the house party swung into its stride on the first morning. The men were excited about the possibilities of fishing the clear mountain streams, and usually departed at an unearthly hour, leaving the women to sleep late, to dawdle over breakfast, to amuse themselves as they saw fit.

From the first, Sally demonstrated her frank desire to spend as much of her time as possible with the masculine portion of the party. She rose at five, dressed in smartly cut slacks or riding breeches, with laced boots and provocative sweaters. She was a surprisingly good angler, and the men ungrudgingly admitted her prowess as they returned in the twilight, dirty, grubby, sunburned and vociferous over the day’s adventures.

Phil and Tip departed one morning alone in the station wagon, intent on fishing a stream at a considerable distance from the house, where one of the taciturn, but unexpectedly friendly mountaineers had sworn the trout were twice the size of any they had yet caught.

“I suppose it’s perfectly safe for them to go alone,” Sally drawled lazily to Geraldine as they reclined in the sun in rustic lawn chairs.

“Why shouldn’t it be? They’re both good fishermen.”

Sally’s grin was malicious.

“And, of course, there aren’t nearly as many fishing accidents as hunting accidents,” she pointed out sweetly.

“Meaning?” Gerry demanded flatly.

Sally shrugged.

“Oh, don’t be infantile, Gerry, my pet. It doesn’t become you,” she drawled. “Meaning, if you would like me to draw you a diagram — it isn’t nearly as dangerous for Phil, fishing with a jealous husband, as if they were hunting, each armed with a rifle that could so easily go off by accident — ”

“That’s a perfectly foul thing to say, Sally!” Geraldine cut in swiftly, her eyes flashing. “Tip is not a jealous husband. Why should he be? He has no reason to be.”

“A neat little lie, of course,” Sally all but cooed. “Only to be expected, of course. You’ve probably got Tip nicely fooled, although I wouldn’t have expected him to be easily deceived. Still, you aren’t fooling
me
worth a cent. I know you’re as much in love with Phil as you ever were.”

“There is no point in my sitting here waiting for you to insult me, Sally, nor do I propose to do so,” Gerry stood up, her eyes blazing.

“I can’t see why speaking the truth should always be misinterpreted as being insulting,” Sally complained. “Nor why you should be ashamed of being in love with Phil. I’m not.”

“You in love? Don’t make me laugh, Sally! You don’t know the beginning of the meaning of the word! You’ve never been in love in your life, except with yourself!”

“Darling, how you do misjudge me!” Sally protested. “I’m very fond of Phil.”

“Just as you could be very fond of anybody who had money enough to satisfy your extravagant whims.”

“Now, that’s not quite fair,” Sally protested, very wide-eyed and hurt, yet the imp of malice still danced in her eyes. “Of course, I admit that it’s nice Phil can give me some of the things I want. But even if he were desperately poor — ”

“Phil’s income is twenty thousand a year, Sally,” said Geraldine impulsively. “I couldn’t help knowing that. Perhaps you didn’t?”

“Oh, I knew it, of course. Doesn’t everybody in Marthasville know everybody’s income, to the last cent?” she said dryly. “I admit it’s not a lot, but — well, Phil’s going ahead. With the right wife to prod him — ”