The Man Between [25]
not. It would have been a great impertinence. I have given him neither claim nor privilege to address me as `My lovely Ethel!' He called you many times `My lovely Dora!' You are not his lovely Dora. When he put on your coat, he drew you closer than was proper; and I saw him take your hand and hold it in a clasp--not necessary."
"Why do you listen and watch? It is vulgar. You told me so yourself. And I am lovely. Basil says that as well as Fred. Do you want a man to lie and say I am ugly?"
"You are fencing the real question. He had no business to use the word `my.' You are engaged to Basil Stanhope, not to Fred Mostyn."
"I am Basil's lovely fiancee; I am Fred's lovely friend."
"Oh! I hope Fred understands the difference."
"Of course he does. Some people are always thinking evil."
"I was thinking of Mr. Stanhope's rights."
"Thank you, Ethel; but I can take care of Mr. Stanhope's rights without your assistance. If you had said you were thinking of Ethel Rawdon's rights you would have been nearer the truth."
"Dora, I will not listen----"
"Oh, you shall listen to me! I know that you expected Fred to fall in love with you, but if he did not like to do so, am I to blame?" Ethel was resuming her coat at this point in the conversation, and Dora understood the proud silence with which the act was being accomplished. Then a score of good reasons for preventing such a definite quarrel flashed through her selfish little mind, and she threw her arms around Ethel and begged a thousand pardons for her rudeness. And Ethel had also reasons for avoiding dissension at this time. A break in their friendship now would bring Dora forward to explain, and Dora had a wonderful cleverness in presenting her own side of any question. Ethel shrunk from her innuendoes concerning Fred, and she knew that Basil would be made to consider her a meddling, jealous girl who willingly saw evil in Dora's guileless enjoyment of a clever man's company.
To be misunderstood, to be blamed and pitied, to be made a pedestal for Dora's superiority, was a situation not to be contemplated. It was better to look over Dora's rudeness in the flush of Dora's pretended sorrow for it. So they forgave each other, or said they did, and then Dora explained herself. She declared that she had not the least intention of any wrong. "You see, Ethel, what a fool the man is about me. Somebody says we ought to treat a fool according to his folly. That is all I was doing. I am sure Basil is so far above Fred Mostyn that I could never put them in comparison--and Basil knows it. He trusts me."
"Very well, Dora. If Basil knows it, and trusts you, I have no more to say. I am now sorry I named the subject."
"Never mind, we will forget that it was named. The fact is, Ethel, I want all the fun I can get now. When I am Basil's wife I shall have to be very sedate, and of course not even pretend to know if any other man admires me. Little lunches with Fred, theater and opera parties, and even dances will be over for me. Oh, dear, how much I am giving up for Basil! And sometimes I think he never realizes how dreadful it must be for me."
"You will have your lover all the time then. Surely his constant companionship will atone for all you relinquish."
"Take off your coat and hat, Ethel, and sit down comfortably. I don't know about Basil's constant companionship. Tete-a-tetes are tiresome affairs sometimes."
"Yes," replied Ethel, as she half-reluc- tantly removed her coat, "they were a bore undoubtedly even in Paradise. I wonder if Eve was tired of Adam's conversation, and if that made her listen to--the other party."
"I am so glad you mentioned that circumstance, Ethel. I shall remember it. Some day, no doubt, I shall have to remind Basil of the failure of Adam to satisfy Eve's idea of perfect companionship." And Dora put her pretty, jeweled hands up to her ears and laughed a low, musical laugh with a childish note of malice running through it.
This pseudo-reconciliation was not conducive to pleasant intercourse. After a short delay Ethel made an excuse
"Why do you listen and watch? It is vulgar. You told me so yourself. And I am lovely. Basil says that as well as Fred. Do you want a man to lie and say I am ugly?"
"You are fencing the real question. He had no business to use the word `my.' You are engaged to Basil Stanhope, not to Fred Mostyn."
"I am Basil's lovely fiancee; I am Fred's lovely friend."
"Oh! I hope Fred understands the difference."
"Of course he does. Some people are always thinking evil."
"I was thinking of Mr. Stanhope's rights."
"Thank you, Ethel; but I can take care of Mr. Stanhope's rights without your assistance. If you had said you were thinking of Ethel Rawdon's rights you would have been nearer the truth."
"Dora, I will not listen----"
"Oh, you shall listen to me! I know that you expected Fred to fall in love with you, but if he did not like to do so, am I to blame?" Ethel was resuming her coat at this point in the conversation, and Dora understood the proud silence with which the act was being accomplished. Then a score of good reasons for preventing such a definite quarrel flashed through her selfish little mind, and she threw her arms around Ethel and begged a thousand pardons for her rudeness. And Ethel had also reasons for avoiding dissension at this time. A break in their friendship now would bring Dora forward to explain, and Dora had a wonderful cleverness in presenting her own side of any question. Ethel shrunk from her innuendoes concerning Fred, and she knew that Basil would be made to consider her a meddling, jealous girl who willingly saw evil in Dora's guileless enjoyment of a clever man's company.
To be misunderstood, to be blamed and pitied, to be made a pedestal for Dora's superiority, was a situation not to be contemplated. It was better to look over Dora's rudeness in the flush of Dora's pretended sorrow for it. So they forgave each other, or said they did, and then Dora explained herself. She declared that she had not the least intention of any wrong. "You see, Ethel, what a fool the man is about me. Somebody says we ought to treat a fool according to his folly. That is all I was doing. I am sure Basil is so far above Fred Mostyn that I could never put them in comparison--and Basil knows it. He trusts me."
"Very well, Dora. If Basil knows it, and trusts you, I have no more to say. I am now sorry I named the subject."
"Never mind, we will forget that it was named. The fact is, Ethel, I want all the fun I can get now. When I am Basil's wife I shall have to be very sedate, and of course not even pretend to know if any other man admires me. Little lunches with Fred, theater and opera parties, and even dances will be over for me. Oh, dear, how much I am giving up for Basil! And sometimes I think he never realizes how dreadful it must be for me."
"You will have your lover all the time then. Surely his constant companionship will atone for all you relinquish."
"Take off your coat and hat, Ethel, and sit down comfortably. I don't know about Basil's constant companionship. Tete-a-tetes are tiresome affairs sometimes."
"Yes," replied Ethel, as she half-reluc- tantly removed her coat, "they were a bore undoubtedly even in Paradise. I wonder if Eve was tired of Adam's conversation, and if that made her listen to--the other party."
"I am so glad you mentioned that circumstance, Ethel. I shall remember it. Some day, no doubt, I shall have to remind Basil of the failure of Adam to satisfy Eve's idea of perfect companionship." And Dora put her pretty, jeweled hands up to her ears and laughed a low, musical laugh with a childish note of malice running through it.
This pseudo-reconciliation was not conducive to pleasant intercourse. After a short delay Ethel made an excuse