The Flower Brides (29 page)

The attendant was sitting very still over by the other window reading the paper. He held it so that it didn’t even crackle. He was very anxious for Laurie to go to sleep.

Laurie attacked the problem of getting out, his mind getting more and more sharp.

Those windows over there. He could take several layers of blanket and press hard and they would break without much noise, supposing they were screwed in and immovable. Then he could surely break out the mullions with his whole strength, leaning against a mullion at a time. But wait! Why not the hall, openly? His experience had been that if one were bold enough he could usually get away with anything. If only that fellow would go to his supper. There! There was the signal bell!

He lay very still, and when the attendant tiptoed over to look at him, he was apparently sleeping, sodden, dead, the kind of sleep the drunkard sleeps when he is coming out of a spree. Laurie knew perfectly how to simulate it.

At last the man opened the door softly and went out. Laurie listened intently. He heard the rubber footsteps going down the hall, heard the man speak to another attendant. Then silence. There seemed to be no one along the hall. There were footsteps in the hall below, going toward the nurses’ dining room. There was a faint tinkle of glass and silver. Now. He must work fast!

He flung the covers from him and peered around the room carefully, discovering his shoes in the corner over near the closet door. He stepped into them. No socks. That was immaterial.

A search of the closet brought only a long brown flannel bathrobe to view. That would do nicely in lieu of his own garments. He stepped to the door and opened it cautiously. There did not seem to be anybody around. They were a trusting lot, after all, these jailors of his. But nobody would think anything if they saw him in such informal array walking in the hall.

He closed the door silently and stalked boldly down the hall. From the bathroom window he reconnoitered. Yes, there was a car parked right down at the foot of the fire escape. If he could only get to it, he was safe.

If he had stopped to consider, he might have been too late, but he usually acted quickly. Besides, he was crazed and desperate for a drink, and this was the only way to get it.

A moment more and he was out on the fire escape, backing down rapidly, crouching so that he would not be noticeable. His arm in its sling hurt, but he did not stop. This was going to be hard on his ankle, too, but what was a little thing like an ankle when one was going to get a drink?

The last length of the fire escape was strung up from the ground, and he had to swing by his good arm and drop. The pain in his ankle was fierce for a minute and turned him sick, but he rose from the snow bank where he had fallen and, with a stealthy look around, crept over to the little roadster that was parked so near and crawled inside. He closed the door so quietly that it could not be heard in the building.

Yes, the key was in the car, and there was gas.

Boldly he backed the car out and sent it leaping down the road. Now, a minute more and he was safe!

The cold air cleared his brain, and the excitement brought the color to his pale cheeks. He did not know what a sight he was, but the car hid him well from view. He must go to the tailor’s first. He threaded his way through the city, which he knew so well, avoiding traffic lights and well-known traffic cops who might take him in.

Neddie, the tailor, was a kind, obsequious little man who had pulled Laurie out of more than one scrape. Laurie pulled up in front of his modest establishment and blew his horn furiously. Neddie hastened out, recognizing the call that Laurie gave and the wave of his hand. Laurie hadn’t any idea what a grotesque figure he presented, but Neddie didn’t bat an eye. Laurie always paid well, and eccentric young gentlemen were not to be questioned. If they chose to travel the avenue in pink-and-blue pajamas with brown frog-fastened bathrobes and their hair standing on end, it was none of his business. He hurried out.

“Yes, Mr. Trescott, what can I do for you?”

“Why, you see, Neddie, I’m in a jam! Had an accident and lost my clothes. Got any of my suits here?”

“Yes, sir. I think so. A brown suit.”

“That’s it. Got an overcoat you can sell me? Something somewhere near my size? No, I don’t care what color. Okay! Well, just let me come in and change, will you?”

The accommodating Neddie opened the door for the startling customer, and the pink-and-blue legs hurtled across the pavement into his shop. But it was in the neighborhood of the university dormitories. Any strange thing might happen around there and be only a bit of harmless hazing, today’s freak orders to the freshmen.

Laurie vanished into a convenient cubby where he had often changed his garments in the past and soon emerged arrayed in his own suit.

“Better comb your hair,” suggested Neddie, presenting him with a comb.

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Laurie indifferently, but he ran the comb through his crisp waves. Then Neddie helped him arrange the cheap shoddy overcoat over his arm that was in a sling, loaned him the ten dollars Laurie demanded, and Laurie marched out, a free man. Neddie knew he would lose nothing in the long run.

Laurie abandoned his appropriated car and hailed a taxi. He knew he could find Lily in half an hour at the factory when the day shift came out from work. But he must have a drink first. He stopped at one of his haunts, and after a few drinks he came out and took another taxi. It was awkward not having his own car. He wondered what had become of it.

He had no trouble in locating Lily, who hopped into the taxi proudly and rode away with him.

“We’re going ta get married, Lily, see?” he said, with uncertain eyes looking sleepily into hers.

“Oh yeah?” said the girl, with a grin.

“Tha’s right, Lily. We’re going ta get married right away. Got any money, Lily? Because I’m in a jam. Had an accident and got my car smashed up.”

“Where we going ta get married?” asked Lily, sharply sitting up and looking at him keenly.

“Oh, down in M’ryland, a place where it’s easy. But we’ll havta go in a train. My car’s gone somewhere for repairsh.”

Laurie’s speech was getting thick and his eyes dreamier every minute.

“Oh, I know something better than that,” said Lily, with a cunning look in her impish eyes. “I gotta friend will take us down an’ we can pay him afterwards. He’d do for a witness, too! He’s real accommodatin’.”

“Okay! Thash so! We havta have a witnesh! Didn’t think of that before.”

Laurie stood uncertainly outside Lily’s house while she arranged with the friend to take them down in a rattly old Ford. He shivered as he waited. The cheap overcoat was thin, and he had no socks on. But what did that matter? He was getting married in a little while to Lily. Lily was a good sport. She always did what you wanted her to. And then he was going to call up Mara and get it back on her for running off. He was going to tell her what a “mishtake” she had made. His thoughts were getting very much muddled now.

Lily put him in the backseat of the old car and let him sleep. She sat in the front with the driver and conversed with him affably. He was an old man and seemed to be somewhat related to her. Laurie found out afterward that he was her uncle. Laurie told him indefinitely where to go. But he said he knew, he’d been there before, and after a very bumpy monotonous drive, they finally arrived at the white house from which Marigold had fled only about twenty-four hours before.

When they came out, less than a half hour later, Laurie looked at her, dazed.

“What we going to do now, Lily?” he said drunkenly. “Lesh go shomewhere and get a drink!”

“No!” said Lily sharply. “You’re married now, and you aren’t going to drink anymore. I’m not going to have a drunken husband. I’m going to be a
lady
!”

“Shure!” said Laurie, appreciatively. “You’re going to be a lady! But every lady drinksh a little. We’ll go get a drink ta shelebrate!”

“No!” said Lily. “We’re going home!”

“You don’t shay!” said Laurie, looking at her stupidly. “Going ta your house? I’ve never been there.”

“No,” said Lily calmly, “we’re going to yours. I’ve been there once, but I’m going now to stay!”

“You’re going ta my housh?” said Laurie, tottering on his uncertain feet and looking at her as if it were something he couldn’t quite comprehend. “But they won’t let you in. They won’t like it.”

“Well, I’m going there all righty, and they’re going ta like it this time, too. Get in, Laurie.”

“But aren’t we going ta get a drink?”

“No, you’ve had enough drinks. I want a sober husband. Here, I’ll get in the backseat with you, and you can put your head down on my shoulder and go to sleep. You gotta get sober before we get home.”

“Okay!” said Laurie, settling down with a sigh against the convenient shoulder. “I guesh mebbe you’re right.”

M
arigold had washed her face and removed the traces of tears, and she was quietly, soberly putting the kitchen in order that her hurried breakfast had left in wild confusion when she heard the knock at her door. Her heart contracted sickly, and for an instant she contemplated not answering it. Then she reflected that it was probably the paperboy come for his money, and she hurriedly picked up her purse and went to answer the knock.

But it was not the paperboy.

An elegantly attired, carefully groomed woman of uncertain age stood before her. The very shoes she wore showed that she gave great attention to her appearance.

She was dressed in a smart suit of wool in a flattering shade of wine color, a trim hat, and a coat of the same color as her suit. It was edged heavily with what Marigold at once recognized as an expensive grade of Persian lamb. There was a flash of some bright jewels at her throat.

Marigold had never seen her before. She gave a startled glance at her face and noticed her expression of deep discontent. Yet there was something wistful, too, about her.

“You are Marigold Brooke, aren’t you?” said the visitor, and her voice marked her at once as belonging to a social class of wealth and culture.

“Why yes,” said Marigold, astonished, for she thought the woman had surely made a mistake in the address.

“Well, may I come in just a minute? I won’t keep you long. There is something I feel I ought to tell you.”

Of course, she must ask her in. She could not have Mrs. Waterman listening to everything that was said. Marigold could hear the door across the hall shut as she closed her own door. Mrs. Waterman was having a hard time satisfying her curiosity this afternoon.

“I am Miss Trescott, Laurie’s aunt,” said the caller, sitting down on the edge of the couch as if she didn’t mean to stay but a minute.

Marigold gave her another startled look.

“I came to tell you that you mustn’t marry Laurie on any account! He’s my own nephew, and of course I love him, but he’s nothing but a trifler, and he drinks like a fish. Three times this last year he’s been in a hospital to get cured, and every time he comes out he goes right back to it. There wouldn’t be anything but sorrow if you married Laurie.”

“But I have no intention of marrying Laurie!” said Marigold, her face deadly white and her eyes wide with horror. “Oh, why does
any
body think I’m going to marry him, when we just went out occasionally together? But I’ve found out he drinks, and I’m done with him. I—we—I don’t want ever to see him again!”

“Oh, I’m so relieved!” said Irene Trescott, sinking back on the couch. “You haven’t any idea how I hated to come and tell you this. But I just couldn’t bear to see you hurt, you’re so—so—kind of lovely and sweet, and so different from most girls nowadays. You’re much too good for Laurie. He would break your heart and spoil your life. I had to warn you.”

“Oh,” said Marigold humbly, “I’m just a silly girl. I wasn’t thinking about getting married. Laurie was nice and pleasant. I never realized that he drank. I might have tried to stop him if I had known. I don’t think I’ve ever been very helpful to him or anyone else. You see, I was just having a good time. I wasn’t considering getting married. I really wasn’t!”

“You’re rather wonderful,” said the older woman. “I’ve been watching you for some time!”

“Why, I don’t think I ever saw you before!” said Marigold, wide eyed.

“No, I don’t suppose you did. But I saw you, out of windows, and once in a while in a shop. Eva Petrie has spoken of you, too, and once I saw you in the other room with Betty Lou when you didn’t even know I was there. I was interested because I knew Laurie knew you. I wish Laurie had been the kind of boy who could have had you for his best friend. For a while I hoped that knowing you would make a difference in him and maybe he would turn out to be worthy of a girl like you after all. But lately he’s been simply awful, and I thought I had to come and warn you. I couldn’t have you hurt. But now since you know, I won’t trouble you anymore. I know young people hate to have older people nosing into their affairs. But I’m glad you aren’t heartbroken. Laurie is fatally attractive, of course.”

“Yes, he is,” said Marigold sadly.

“You’re sure he hasn’t broken your heart? You’re sure he won’t be coming around and persuading you to try him again? Because you mustn’t trust him! You really can’t! He’s undependable and irresponsible. He’ll love you today and another girl tomorrow, and he’ll promise not to drink and go at it again the next minute. I’m grieved over it, but it’s true.”

“I know!” said Marigold quietly, calmness coming to her now like a mantle. “I’ve seen him with other girls. I’ve seen him—recently—when he had been drinking.”

She lifted brave eyes and looked at her caller.

“And that’s why you’ve given him up?”

“Why, I don’t know that I ever actually counted him mine before that to give up. But after I knew, he never
could
be mine.”

“And you’re not going around long faced and heartbroken? You’re not feeling terribly bad about it?”

“Yes, I feel bad. I feel shocked and sorrowful that Laurie was like that and not the delightful friend I had counted him, but—well—lately—just lately, I’ve come to know the Lord Jesus better, and He’s given me something deeper in my life. It’s made all other things quite pale beside Him.”