The Hundredth Chance. Dell Ethel May
for a nervous horse. She forced herself to smile upon him; it was the only thing to do.
He smiled in return-his pleasant open smile. "Remember me now?" he said.
"Quite well," she answered.
"Good!" he said briefly. "Let me find you a chair! I don't suppose you know many of the people here."
She did not know any of them, and as Sheppard had seized upon his bride, and was presenting her in rude triumph to each in turn with much noisy laughter and coarse joking it was not difficult to slip into a corner with Jake Bolton without attracting further attention.
He stood beside her for a space while covertly she took stock of him.
Yes, he actually had discarded his gaiters and was wearing evening dress. It did not seem a natural garb for him, but he carried it better than she would have expected. He still reminded her very forcibly of horses, though she could not have definitely said wherein this strong suggestion lay. His ruddy face and short, dominant nose might have belonged to a sailor. But the brilliant chestnut eyes with their red-brown lashes were somehow not of the sea. They made her think of the reek of leather and the thud of galloping hoofs.
Suddenly he turned and caught her critical survey. She dropped her eyes instantly in hot confusion, while he, as if he had just made up his mind, sat down beside her.
"So you and your brother are going to live here?" he said.
She answered him in a low voice; the words seemed to leap from her almost without her conscious volition. "We can't help ourselves."
He gave a short nod as of a suspicion confirmed, and sat in silence for a little. The loud laughter of Giles Sheppard's guests filled in the pause.
Maud held herself rigidly still, repressing a nervous shiver that attacked her repeatedly.
Suddenly the man beside her spoke. "What's the matter with that young brother of yours?"
With relief she came out of her tense silence. "It is an injury to the spine. He had a fall in his babyhood. He suffers terribly sometimes."
"Nothing to be done?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No one very good has seen him. He won't let a doctor come near him now."
"Oh rats!" exclaimed Jake Bolton unexpectedly.
She felt her colour rise as he turned his bright eyes upon her.
"You don't say that a kid like that can get the better of you?" he said.
She resented the question; yet she answered it. "Bunny has a strong will. I never oppose it."
"And why not?" He was looking directly at her with a comical smile as if he were inspecting some quaint object of interest.
Again against her will she made reply. "I try to give him all he wants. He has missed all that is good in life."
He wrinkled his forehead for a moment as if puzzled, then broke into a laugh. "Say, what a queer notion to get!" he said.
She stiffened on the instant, but he did not seem to notice it. He leaned towards her, and laid one finger-a short, square fore-finger-on her arm.
"Tell me now-what are the good things in life?"
She withdrew her arm from his touch, and regarded him with a hauteur that did not wholly veil her embarrassment.
"You don't know!" said Jake. "Be honest and say so!"
But Maud only retired further into her shell. "I think we have wandered rather far from the subject," she said coldly. "My brother is unfortunately the victim of circumstance, and no discussion can alter that fact."
He accepted the snub without a sign of discomfiture. "Is he here now?" he asked.
She bent her head. "In this house-yes."
"Will you let me see him presently?" he pursued.
Distantly she made reply. "I am afraid that is impossible."
"Why?" he said.
She raised her dark brows.
"Tell me why!" he insisted.
Calmly she met his look. "It is not good for him to see strangers at night. It upsets his rest."
"You think it would be bad for him to see me?" he questioned.
His voice was suddenly very deliberate. He was looking her full in the face.
A curious little tremor went through her. She felt as if he had pinioned her there before him.
Her reply astounded herself. "I don't say it would be bad for him, – only-inadvisable. He is rather excited already."
"Will you ask him presently if he would cane to see me?" said Jake Bolton steadily.
She bit her lip, hesitating.
"I shan't upset him," he said. "I won't excite him. I'll quiet him down."
She did not want to yield-yet she yielded. "I will ask him-if you wish," she said.
He smiled. "Thank you, Miss Brian. You didn't want to give in, did you? But I undertake that you will not be sorry."
"Hullo, Jacob!" blared Sheppard's voice suddenly across the room. "What are you doing over there, you rascal? Thought I shouldn't see you, eh? Ah, you're a deep one, you are! I daresay now you've made up your mind that that young woman is a princess in disguise. She isn't. She's just my step-daughter, and a very cheap article, I assure you, Jake, – very cheap indeed!"
The roar of laughter that greeted this sally filled the room, drowning any further remarks. Sheppard stood in the centre, swaying a little, looking round on the assembled company with a facetious grin.
Jake Bolton rose and went to him. He stood with him for a moment, and Maud, shivering in her corner, marvelled that he did not look mean and insignificant beside the other's great bulk. She wondered what he said. It was only a few words, and they were not apparently uttered with much urgency. But Sheppard's grin died away, and she fancied that for a moment-only for a moment-he looked a little sheepish. Then he clapped a great hand upon Bolton's shoulder.
"All right. All right. It's for you to make the running. Come along, ladies and gentlemen! Let us feed!"
There was a general move, and a tall, lanky young man with a white face and black hair that shone like varnish slouched up to Maud.
"I don't see why Bolton should have all the plums," he said. "May I have the honour of conducting you to the supper table?"
She was on her feet. She looked at him with a disdain so withering that the young man wilted visibly before her.
"No offence meant, I'm sure," he said, shuffling his feet. "But I thought-as you were being so pally with Jake Bolton-you wouldn't object to being pally with me."
Maud said nothing. She was in fact so quivering with rage that speech would have been difficult.
A very stout elderly lady, with a neck and arms that were hardly distinguishable from the red silk dress she wore, sailed up to them. "Come, come, Miss!" she said, beaming good-temperedly upon Maud's pale face. "We're not standing on ceremony to-night. We're all friends here. You won't mind going in with my boy Tom, I'm sure. He's considered quite the ladies' man, I can assure you."
"Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Wright? Miss Brian is going in with me," said Jake Bolton's smooth voice behind her. "Tom, you git!"
Somehow-before she knew it-the black-haired young man was gone from her path, and her hand lay trembling within Bolton's arm.
She did not utter a word, she could not. She felt choked.
Jake Bolton said nothing either. He only piloted her through the crowd with the smile of the winner curving the corners of his mouth.
They readied the dining-room, and people began to seat themselves around a long centre table. There was no formal arrangement, and some confusion ensued in consequence.
"Fight it out among yourselves!" yelled Sheppard above the din of laughter and movement. "Make yourselves at home!"
Bolton glanced round.