The Heart of Rachael - Page 54/76

"Glad to. Any chance of you coming to lunch, Rachael? What are

your plans?"

"Thank you, no, woman dear! I may go over to Gertrude's for tea."

The little group broke up. Mrs. Haviland and her niece went out to

the waiting motor car purring on the pebbled drive. Rachael idly

watched them out of sight, sighed at the thought of wasting so

beautiful a day indoors, and went slowly upstairs. Her husband,

comfortably propped in pillows, looked better.

"Clarence," said she, depositing several pounds of morning papers

upon the foot of his bed, "who's Billy lunching with at the club?"

Clarence picked up the uppermost paper, fixed his eyes attentively

upon it, and puffed upon his cigarette for reply.

"Do you know?" Rachael asked vigorously.

No answer. Mr. Breckenridge, his eyes still intent upon what he

was reading, held his cigarette at arm's length over the brass

bowl on the table beside the bed, and dislodged a quarter-inch of

ash with his little finger.

Rachael, briskly setting his cluttered table to rights, gave him

an angry glance that, so far as any effect upon him was concerned,

was thrown away.

"Don't be so rude, Clarence," she said, in annoyance. "Billy said

you agreed to her going to the club for golf. Who's she with?"

At last Mr. Breckenridge raised sodden and redshot eyes to his

wife's face, moistening his dark and swollen lips carefully with

his tongue before he spoke. He was a fat-faced man, who, despite

evidences of dissipation, did not look his more than forty years.

There was no gray in his thin, silky hair, and there still

lingered an air of youth and innocence in his round face. This

morning he was in a bad temper because his whole body was still

upset from the Friday night dinner and drinking party, and in his

soul he knew that he had cut rather a poor figure before Billy,

and that the little minx had taken instant advantage of the

situation.

"I just want to say this, Rachael," Clarence said, with an icy

dignity only slightly impaired by the lingering influences of

drink. "I'm Billy's father, and I understand her, and she

understands me. That's all that's necessary; do you get me?" He

put his cigarette holder back in his mouth, gripped it firmly

between his teeth, and turned again to his paper. "If some of you

damned jealous women who are always running around trying to make

trouble would let her ALONE" he went on sulkily, "I'd be obliged

to you--that's all!"

Rachael settled her ruffles in a big wing-chair with the innocent

expression of a casual caller. She took a book from the reading

table, and fluttered a few pages indifferently.