Half a Rogue by Harold MacGrath (bts book recommendations TXT) 📕

too, till I went to your room and found you gone. You mustn't go without notifying the stableman or the groom."

"It was an impulse of the moment, mother. I couldn't sleep, and I saw no need of waking up the boys in the stables."

Patty ran up stairs for a bath and a change of clothes for breakfast. She ate little, however; the ride had not put the usual edge on her appetite.

"Mr. Warrington made a fine speech last night," said the mother, handing the morning paper to Patty.

Patty accepted it mechanically. She had determined not to read the paper. But she knew now, if she unfolded it, she would turn immediately to the local pages and search for Warrington's speech. She read it, and she hated herself for admiring it. The self-lie was not among Patty's failings. There was no denying that Warrington's speech was a good oratorical effort; every line of it rang sound and true; but that might be a trick of the trade. He could make thieves and villains on the stage speak glibly and plausibly; certainly he could do as much for himself. One thing she could not deny him, and that was frankness. He had confessed to her last summer that he was not, or had not been, a good man in the strict sense of the word. She laid down the paper and finished her coffee. She was glad that she did not have to face Kate at each meal. She felt that she couldn't have trusted herself; there were times when she spoke the first thought, and always regretted it. Poor John, poor John!

From the table she went directly to the Indian basket that held all the cards and invitations. The mother, concerned with her household duties, left her to herself. Patty would have found some difficulty at that moment in answering any curious questions. One by one she drew out the envelopes and cards. There was a permanent scent of sweet grass. She discovered nothing; she realized that her discovering anything depended solely upon hazard. Excitement ebbed, leaving nothing but hopelessness. She threw the cards and invitations into the basket. She might have known that visiting-cards and printed invitations are generally odorless. She sought the garden. The Angora was prowling around, watching the bees and butterflies hovering over wind-fallen fruit. Patty called to her, but the cat ignored the call. From the garden Patty went to the stables, from the stables she returned to the house. She was at peace nowhere. Later her mother found her dreaming in the window-seat.

"Patty, Mrs. Haldene left her shopping-bag here yesterday afternoon. I had forgotten it. Would you mind taking it over to her, or shall I have the maid do it?"

"I have nothing to do, mother. I can take it over just as well as not," said Patty listlessly.

She slipped her arm through the handles of the bag and proceeded into the hall for a hat. As she lifted the hat to her head the bag slipped along her arm close to her nose. Instantly her figure became tense and rigid, her face grim and colorless.

Heliotrope!


Chapter XVIII


There could be no doubt at all. The perfume on the letter and that on the shopping-bag were identical. Indeed, she would take the bag over to Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene; she would be very glad to do her that trifling service. Oh! Patty's rage choked her. During the past three weeks Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene had called at least a dozen times, doubtless to observe the effect of her interest in Patty's welfare. She might have known! Well, this very morning she would ascertain from Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's lips where she had secured her information. She would do more than that; she would make her prove every word of it.

So Patty marched toward the Haldene place, marched, because that verb suggests something warlike, something belligerent. And there was war a-plenty in Patty's heart. Each step she took sang out a sharp "Meddler-gossip! meddler-gossip!" A delivery horse went past, drumming an irritating "Busybody! busybody! busybody!" What had she or hers ever done to Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene that she should stoop to so base a means of attack? An anonymous letter! War raged in Patty's heart; but there was something warmer and clearer coursing through her veins-hope!

She went on. Not a particle of her courage deserted her as she mounted the steps and pushed the bell. When Patty was genuinely roused in anger she was afraid of little or nothing, animate or inanimate. A maid answered the bell. As she recognized the caller she swung back the door and nodded.

"Is Mrs. Haldene at home?" Patty inquired.

"Yes, Miss Patty."

The maid led Patty into the library, where Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene was busily engaged in making up an invitation list.

"Why, Patty, I am glad to see you," she cried, dropping her pen and rising. But her curiosity rose at the same time. Patty here?

"You left your shopping-bag when you called yesterday," said Patty, ominously calm. "I have brought it to you."

"It was very careless of me to forget it."

"Yes, it was," Patty assented, her heart beginning to throb violently.

"Thank you. And I have been looking for it high and low."

Patty passed the bag to her enemy. How to begin, how to begin!

"Mrs. Haldene!" Patty's voice was high-pitched and quavering.

"Why, Patty!"

"Why did you write this base letter to me!"-exhibiting the letter resolutely. "Do not deny that you wrote it. It smells of heliotrope-your favorite perfume."

"Patty Bennington, are you mad?" cried Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene. "What letter? What do you mean?" She knew very well, but she had not practised the control of her nerves all these years for nothing. "A letter? I demand to see it."

But Patty reconsidered and withdrew her hand, concluding that Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene could destroy the letter as easily as she had written it; more easily, had Patty but known it.

"I prefer to read it to you." And Patty read, her tones sharp and penetrating, finely tempered by anger.

"I write such a thing as that? You accuse me of writing an anonymous letter of that caliber? You are mad, distinctly mad, and if I did what was right I should ask you to leave this house instantly." Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene rose to her full height, after the manner of indignant persons on the stage.

Patty was not overcome in the least. An idea, bold, unconventional, and not over-scrupulous, shot into her head. With her eyes holding Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's, she stepped toward the desk; then, in a flash, she seized one of the sheets of note-paper that lay scattered about. Mrs. Franklyn Haldene made a desperate effort to intercept Patty; but Patty was young, slender and agile. She ran quickly to the nearest window and compared the written sheet with the blank. The paper and grain were the same, only one showed that the top had been cut off. There was no shadow of doubt.

"You are a horrible woman," said Patty.

"Leave this house instantly!" Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene was now thoroughly alarmed.

"Not till you have proved the truth of this letter," Patty declared.

"I refuse to submit to such gross insults in my own house!" Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's voice rose a key. She swept majestically toward the door.

Patty stepped bravely in front of her.

"Have you no breeding?" the storm in Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's voice gathering.

"Who told you that my brother's wife was formerly-"

"Stand aside!"

"I shall not leave this house or your presence till you have answered," replied the little paladin. "You wrote this letter to me, trusting it would make me miserable. It has. But I have not done what you expected,-shown it. Who told you this base lie?"

"I refuse to answer your impudent questions. Will you stand aside?"

"There is a way to force you. I will know, Mrs. Haldene, I will know. If you refuse, I shall turn these two sheets over to my brother's lawyers."

"A lawyer?" with an hysterical laugh. "You would scarcely take a thing like that to a lawyer, of all persons."

"I declare to you that that is exactly what I shall do. You wrote this letter; I can prove that you wrote it. Afraid of publicity? You do not know me. What I demand to know is, who gave you this information? That I will know."

Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene saw that Patty would do what she promised; so she took her stand boldly.

"Well, then, since you will have it. Yes, I wrote that letter, for I could no longer stand the humiliation of meeting your sister-in-law in decent houses, and that double hypocrite who pretends to be your brother's friend and your admirer. Proof? I was at my hair-dresser's one morning, when a woman who is an intimate of McQuade, the politician, came in. She dropped a letter. McQuade had written it. It told definitely the information you have in your hand."

"You have that letter?" Patty was conscious of a strange numbness stealing over her.

"No, I haven't. I read it, and sent it to its owner. I consider myself very fortunate. I always had my suspicions, and it was a relief to find that they were not without foundation. You will now relieve me of your unwelcome presence in this house." This time Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene leveled her arm toward the door; the right was with her.

"In a moment," said a third voice, masculine.

Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's arm dropped. Patty turned with a low cry. She had forgotten that there might be some one else in the house.

Haldene entered through the door to the dining-room. His face was hard and his eyes cold.

"I must ask your pardon, both of you, but I could not help overhearing your voices. They ran somewhat high." He bowed to Patty deferentially; he merely glanced at his wife.

"Franklyn!" This phase of the situation was altogether too unexpected and embarrassing for Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene to accept it readily.

"I have heard words about an anonymous letter; I have heard names,-McQuade, your brother, his wife, Warrington, and my wife. I should like to know-"

"Franklyn!" his wife appealed. To be humiliated before this impudent chit of a girl!

"Patience, my dear." Haldene held up his hand. "Well, Patty?"

"Mrs. Haldene has taken the trouble to meddle with my affairs by writing me an anonymous letter concerning the conduct of my brother's wife and his friend. I have traced the letter to Mrs. Haldene, and she has confessed that she wrote it, also stating her reasons and the source of her information." Patty spoke bravely, for she hadn't the least idea whose side Mr. Haldene would take. She was not aware that, for all his idle habits and failings, he had that quality of justice which, upon occasions, makes a terrible judge of a just man.

"Will you let me see that letter?" he asked.

Patty gave it to him without conditions. He read it slowly, but neither woman could discover the slightest emotion on the man's face. He studied it carefully. He even compared the false hand with the true. Then he addressed his wife.

"Did you write this?"

"Yes, I did. And if you have been listening, as you had the courage to say you had, you already know my reasons for writing it." Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene was recovering.

"You must apologize," he said.

"Apologize? I think not. On my part there is nothing more to be said."

"I see that I shall have to apologize for you. Patty,