"Jack Carter," answered Travis. "No," she added. shaking her head at him helplessly, "he hasn't been listening to a word. I'm talking about Jack Carter and the 'Saturday Evening' last night.""No, no, I haven't heard. Forgive me; I was thinking--thinking of something else. Who was drunk?"Travis paused a moment, settling her side-combs in her hair; then:
"If you will try to listen, I'll tell it all over again, because it's serious with me, and I'm going to take a very decided stand about it. You know," she went on--"you know what the 'Saturday Evening' is. Plenty of the girls who are not 'out' belong, and a good many of last year's debutantes come, as well as the older girls of three or four seasons' standing. You could call it representative couldn't you? Well, they always serve punch; and you know yourself that you have seen men there who have taken more than they should.""Yes, yes," admitted Condy. "I know Carter and the two Catlin boys always do.""It gets pretty bad sometimes, doesn't it?" she said.
"It does, it does--and it's shameful. But most of the girls--MOST of them don't seem to mind."
Miss Bessemer stiffened a bit. "There are one or two girls that do," she said quietly. "Frank Catlin had the decency to go home last night," she continued; "and his brother wasn't any worse than usual. But Jack Carter must have been drinking before he came.
He was very bad indeed--as bad," she said between her teeth, "as he could be and yet walk straight. As you say, most of the girls don't mind. They say, 'It's only Johnnie Carter; what do you expect?' But one of the girls--you know her, Laurie Flagg--cut a dance with him last night and told him exactly why. Of course, Carter was furious. He was sober enough to think he had been insulted; and what do you suppose he did?""What? what?" exclaimed Condy, breathless, leaning toward her.
"Went about the halls and dressing-rooms circulating some dirty little lie about Laurie. Actually trying to--to"--Travis hesitated--"to make a scandal about her."Condy bounded in his seat. "Beast, cad, swine!" he exclaimed.
"I didn't think," said Travis, "that Carter would so much as dare to ask me to dance with him--""Did he? did--did--"
"Wait," she interrupted. "So I wasn't at all prepared for what happened. During the german, before I knew it, there he was in front of me. It was a break, and he wanted it. I hadn't time to think. The only idea I had was that if I refused him he might tell some dirty little lie about me. I was all confused--mixed up. I felt just as though it were a snake that I had to humor to get rid of. I gave him the break."Condy sat speechless. Suddenly he arose.
"Well, now, let's see," he began, speaking rapidly, his hands twisting and untwisting till the knuckles cracked. "Now, let's see. You leave it to me. I know Carter. He's going to be at a stag dinner where I am invited to-morrow night, and I--I--""No, you won't, Condy," said Travis placidly. "You'll pay no attention to it, and I'll tell you why. Suppose you should make a scene with Mr. Carter--I don't know how men settle these things.
Well, it would be told in all the clubs and in all the newspaper offices that two men had quarreled over a girl; and my name is mentioned, discussed, and handed around from one crowd of men to another, from one club to another; and then, of course, the papers take it up. By that time Mr. Carter will have told his side of the story and invented another dirty little lie, and I'm the one who suffers the most in the end. And remember, Condy, that Ihaven't any mother in such an affair, not even an older sister.
No, we'll just let the matter drop. It would be more dignified, anyhow. Only I have made up my mind what I am going to do.""What's that?"
"I'm not coming out. If that's the sort of thing one has to put up with in society"--Travis drew a little line on the sofa at her side with her finger-tip--"I am going to--stop--right--there.
