Chapter XI

Before ten the next morning May Seymour telephoned Gloria.

"Hello, Lazy-bones!" she said in answer to Gloria's sleepy "Hello."

"I've been up for two hours," May went on proudly. "Bathed Mah Jong already."

"Did you call me up to tell me you'd given your dog a bath?" Gloria laughed. "I have something better to tell than that myself ... I've got a lot of new clothes to show you. Bought 'em yesterday."

"Well, doll yourself up in some of them and we'll go downtown and jazz around a bit," May said. "I'm blue as indigo ... and I don't know why. Found a gray hair in my brush, for one thing, this morning! Think of it ... gray hair at twenty-five! ... What do you suppose I'll look like at forty?"

"Just the way you do now," Gloria comforted her. "Brunettes don't fade, May. And there's a lot of good hair dye on the market when you really need it.... What time will you call for me?"

"Oh, about twelve," May said, and rang off.

Gloria set about the serious business of dressing.

She had just finished by the time May honked the horn of her car outside the house at noon.

"If any one telephones for me when I'm gone, please say I'm having lunch at the Vandermore with Mrs. Seymour," Gloria told Ranghild, who was cleaning silver in the pantry. She had a vague idea that Stan might take it into his head to phone her.

"Well, will you kindly take a look at the Fifth Avenue kid!" May exclaimed as Gloria opened the door of the automobile and stepped in. "That's the best-looking hat I ever saw in my life!"

"I'm glad you appreciate it.... Dick all but killed me for buying it," Gloria sighed. "My goodness, to hear him talk you'd think I'd committed a murder instead of buying myself a few clothes!"

"That's the way with all the men," May sympathized as the car sped through the sunny streets. "I tell you, Gloria, a woman has to fight for everything she gets in this world! ... I've broken John of his everlasting ding-donging about bills, though.... Every time he razzed me for spending money I turned right 'round and spent some more! ... Now he's afraid to open his mouth about bills."

May set her painted mouth in a straight firm line.

"What does a girl get out of marriage but a few clothes and parties, and a houseful of furniture to keep dusted, anyway?" she went on after a moment. "Nothing else at all! ... But a man's marriage just doubles his interest in life. He still has his business, and a home and wife on the side! Whereas a girl gives up everything when she marries."

Gloria thought this over. Surely May hadn't given up everything when she married Dr. John. She certainly had not given up Jim Carewe, for instance. They still went around together as they had before May's marriage.

Dr. John was a mystery to Gloria. Didn't care if his attractive young wife and Jim Carewe lunched together two or three times a week while he, himself, was making his calls? ... Or did he care so much for May that he let her do as she pleased, so long as she was content to be his wife? ... Gloria couldn't figure it out.

May parked her car outside an automobile salesroom.

After the two girls had shopped and lunched they decided to go back to Gloria's house to look at her new clothes.

Gloria was vaguely unhappy.

Somehow or other she had had a wild hope that she would see Stanley Wayburn in the restaurant where she and May had lunched. When she had dressed that morning, she had been dressing, half-unconsciously, for Stan's eyes.

And she had not seen him.

"Look at that blue car there in the window, Gloria." May indicated a glossy little roadster in the window of the showroom across the sidewalk.

Gloria looked. The little car was a beauty.

Its dark blue sides shone like satin. Its trimmings were of polished brass.

"Just for the fun of it, let's go in and price it," Gloria said impulsively. They went in.

"That's our new 1925 model," said the natty young salesman, opening the door of the car so that Gloria could get into it. "The very best buy on the market ... $1800 exactly!"

Gloria sat down behind the wheel. The soft springy seats were covered with blue leather. And on the dash was a tiny clock set in dark blue enamel.

"This car drives as easily as a one-hoss shay. It's an ideal machine for a lady," the salesman said, turning to May.

"You certainly should have that car, Gloria," May said in her metallic voice. Gloria stepped out of the automobile.

That night she asked Dick to buy it for her.

"I don't want any old telephone company stock, Rikky," she said, pleadingly. "And I'm just crazy for this little bus. It's the cutest thing in the world ... and it would keep your Gloria so snug and warm these wintry days.... I could even go to market in it every morning, and bring my vegetables and meats home in it."

That touch about the market was an inspiration, she knew. For Dick loved the idea of her being a housewife ... picking out her own strawberries and rump-roasts in the markets, and bringing them home.

"I want that telephone stock for you ... but there is one way I can buy you the automobile," he said finally.

"How?" Gloria asked eagerly.

"If I sell my own car, I'll make enough on the sale to pay down something on the new one for you," Dick said. "I don't suppose I really need that old speedster of mine. It would probably do me good to walk to the office once in a while."

"You do look pale, Dick," Gloria said, "and I'm not saying that just because I want you to sell your car.... You really don't look well."

But as the days went by Gloria thought that Dick had forgotten all about the little blue car.

On the morning of her twenty-first birthday Dick was gone when she opened her eyes after a night of deep, dreamless sleep.

"Did Mr. Gregory take his car this morning?" she asked Ranghild when she brought up her breakfast tray.

"He did, ma'am," Ranghild answered. "And an hour ago a man drove a new car into our driveway. It's standing there, now."

Gloria leaped from bed. She ran downstairs in her bare feet and looked out of the sunroom window....

There it was, with the sunshine striking its polished sides ... her little blue Winged Victory! Her very own! Gloria thrilled with happiness as she stood looking at it.

While she was dressing the telephone rang.

"This is Miss Briggs speaking," came a cool, low voice over the wire. "Mr. Gregory asked me to tell you that an instructor would be out about twelve to teach you to drive the new automobile."

"Thanks," Gloria said shortly. She hung up the receiver with a bang.

What right had Dick to give Miss Briggs a message like that for her?

Why should Miss Briggs have to know that she didn't know how to run an automobile ... that her family had never owned one?

And why hadn't Dick telephoned, himself, to wish her a happy birthday?

... There had been a time only a few short weeks ago when he had called her up three or four times a day just to hear the sound of her voice.

Oh, well, that was the way marriage changed a man! As soon as he had you, he stopped caring for you ... evidently. Or, at any rate, he didn't care half so much for you as he had....

The demonstrator arrived a little before twelve and drove Gloria to the neighboring park. As they bowled along, he explained the mechanism of the car to her.

Around and around the park they drove. And at last he let Gloria take the wheel for a few minutes.

"To-morrow I'll be out at the same time, and I'll let you drive," the demonstrator told Gloria as they drove back to the house. He jotted down some instructions for Gloria.

After he had gone Gloria stood on the front steps. It was only three o'clock. She hadn't seen her mother for more than a week.

She decided to walk the long mile to her old home.

Mrs. Gordon saw Gloria coming up the street, from her armchair in the bay window. She came out on the porch to welcome her.

"Well, I thought you'd forgotten that you had a mother, dearie," she said, her eyes shining with tears, her lips smiling. With arms linked, they went into the house.

"Well, I've had the busiest time of my whole life so far," Gloria explained. "First of all, I gave a housewarming and then I spent a whole day shopping, and I've been picking out a new automobile! ... And to-day I got it. Dick gave it to me for a birthday present.... You forgot that to-day was my birthday, didn't you, Motherkin?"

Mrs. Gordon bridled.

"Indeed I did not!" she said. "I called up this morning to ask you and Dick to come here for supper to-night. The maid said you were still asleep. Then I called again a few minutes ago, and she said you were out.... But I went right ahead and baked your birthday cake, anyway."

She led Gloria out into the little kitchen that was more like a sitting-room than anything else.

There was a rocking chair with a red calico cushion in one corner, and the table was set ready for a meal. The family always ate breakfast there.

Gloria went into the dark pantry. On the shelf was a brown crock, half filled with baked beans.

"Yum, yum, my favorite food!" Gloria smacked her lips greedily.

Mrs. Gordon took a plate out of the cupboard. She put a large helping of beans on it, and a slice of cold roast beef.

"There, dearie, while you're eating that I'll call up Dick and ask him to come here to supper," Mrs. Gordon said.

In a few minutes she came back into the kitchen.

"All right, he's coming," she told Gloria. "Now I'll sit right down here and peel these potatoes, while you finish your snack."

"You don't seem a bit excited about my having an automobile, Mother," Gloria complained. "I thought you'd be tickled to death."

"Well, I am," her mother said placidly, "but I'm getting used to seeing you get everything you want, Gloria, since you married Dick. After you came home with that new fur coat I was ready for anything. I could see then that Dick was going to spoil you ... by giving you everything that you wanted, or thought you wanted. You're a lucky woman, Gloria. He's a man in a million."

Gloria laughed knowingly.

"He is not!" she said. "It's like pulling teeth to make him spend a nickel! ... But I've just told him that if he wants me to live with him, he's got to come across with the things that other men give their wives!"

"Gloria Gordon! That's a terrible way to talk!" her mother said in a shocked voice. "And you only married a few weeks!"

"What has that to do with it?" Gloria asked, folding her napkin. "I'm going to start out the right way. Dick's got to know right from the beginning that he can't make a dishmop of me. Look at yourself, Mother! All your life you've worked your fingers to the bone for Dad and what have you got out of it? Not a thing that I can see!"

Mrs. Gordon peeled potatoes silently, for a few minutes.

"Well, you may not be able to see it, but I have a lot of happiness, Gloria," she said quietly. "Your Dad and I get along pretty well, together. I care more for him to-day, when he's old and broken-down, than I ever did before in my life, I guess.... And we're contented, owning this little house of ours. It's paid for, at last, after thirteen years!"

Gloria shook her head. Her mother was beyond her comprehension. She had so little, and yet she was happy. Any one could see that she was happy ... with the smile that always lurked in her spectacled blue eyes, and the upward twist of her humorous mouth.

"I'll go out and buy some flowers for your table to-night," Gloria said.

"You needn't," Mrs. Gordon answered. "I've nine geraniums in bloom in the front windows. You can go and cut the blossoms from them if you will, for me.... And I've bought little red candles to go on the cake."

Gloria went into the dining-room to set the table.

The sideboard drawers were filled with snowy linen. Much of it was darned but the mended places looked like bits of embroidery done by some expert needlewoman ... as, indeed, her mother was.

At six o'clock Gloria heard footsteps on the front porch. She ran to open the door for her father.

He held her away from him, and looked at her.

"Well, my fine lady!" he said, proudly. "Your old Dad never thought he'd have a princess like this!"

A lump rose in Gloria's throat. He was so little and old ... her Dad! His whole life had been a disappointment, he had spent years writing a history of the world. And after he had finished it no one would publish it. There went two or three hat boxes up in the attic filled with the manuscript of that life work that no one would ever see.

... And now he was working for a printer away down town for a tiny salary.

As they stood there under the gaslight in the hall, Dick rang the front doorbell. Mr. Gordon let him in.

"How do you do, sir?" asked Dick, towering above the old man. "How's business, these days, with you?"

"Fine as silk," answered Gloria's father, as he helped Dick off with his coat. That had been his answer, always. He and his business ... everything about him ... were always "fine as silk." He would have no one's sympathy, and no one's pity. He was as proud as Lucifer.

Mrs. Gordon bustled in.

"We can sit right down to supper as soon as I make the gravy," she said, when she had kissed Dick. "Gloria, you light your birthday candles, please."

Dick followed his wife into the dining-room.

"Did you like your car?" he asked.

"Adored it," Gloria answered, throwing her arms around his neck. "But why didn't you call me up to tell me the instructor was coming instead of letting Miss Briggs know all your business?"

"She knows it all, anyway," Dick replied. "A man's secretary has to know his business.... And she's a regular clam, anyway. Never opens her mouth to a soul!"

"Did you have to sell your old car?" Gloria, asked. "Ranghild said you drove away in it this morning."

"Sure I sold it," Dick answered. "Where did you think I got the money for the payment on your car ... stole it?"

"Well, I thought you might have used the money for my car instead of buying that old telephone stock," she said.

Dick put a warning finger to his lips. The kitchen door opened and Mrs. Gordon came into the room with a tray of soup-plates.

After dinner, Gloria's father got up from the table and went upstairs.

Presently he came down with a dusty bottle in his hands.

"Port wine," he said, looking at Dick. "I've had that bottle put away for fifteen or eighteen years. Shall we drink the bride's health ... or her birthday, I should say?"

"This, I suppose," Dick said, before he emptied his tiny glass, "is the moment to give my wife her birthday present!"

He handed Gloria a folded sheet of thick white paper.

Gloria took the folded sheet of paper that Dick held out to her.

"Birthday present?" she repeated. "Why, I thought my darling little car was all the birthday present I was going to get!"

Dick laughed indulgently.

"Well, I thought I'd better give you two presents this year. Next birthday I may be too poor to give you even one," he said. "Aren't you going to take a look at my gift, Littlest?"

Gloria unfolded the thick crackling sheet. It was a certificate for ten shares of telephone stock. She handed it across the table to her father.

"Isn't that nice?" she asked. "The dividends from it ought to buy me a hat once in a while, don't you think?"

Mrs. Gordon looked ruefully at Dick.

"That girl and her hats!" she exclaimed. "Do you know, Dick, after Gloria was married, I was looking through her clothes closet. And I found eight hats that she'd left on the closet shelf. Eight of them! Not old hats, either, but new fall ones! I fixed two of them over for myself, and gave the rest of them to the neighbors. Half the street is wearing Gloria's castoff hats this winter!"

"Well, now, Mother," Gloria's father interrupted, "that was all right. You can't blame a girl for fixing herself up for her beau, can you? Dick thought he was courting Gloria but she was really courting him ... with her hats. She was like a bird preening its feathers in mating time, that's all."

"She goes right on preening, sir," Dick said humorously. "She's bought a half dozen hats since we've been married."

"I have not!" Gloria contradicted furiously. "I've had only three!"