The Pit
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第50章

As early as four o'clock in the afternoon Laura, suddenly moved by an unreasoning caprice, began to prepare an elaborate toilet.Not since the opera night had she given so much attention to her appearance.She sent out for an extraordinary quantity of flowers;flowers for the table, flowers for Page and Aunt Wess', great "American beauties" for her corsage, and a huge bunch of violets for the bowl in the library.She insisted that Page should wear her smartest frock, and Mrs.Wessels her grenadine of great occasions.As for herself, she decided upon a dinner gown of black, decollete, with sleeves of lace.Her hair she dressed higher than ever.She resolved upon wearing all her jewelry, and to that end put on all her rings, secured the roses in place with an amethyst brooch, caught up the little locks at the back of her head with a heart-shaped pin of tiny diamonds, and even fastened the ribbon of satin that girdled her waist, with a clasp of flawed turquoises.

Until five in the afternoon she was in the gayest spirits, and went down to the dining-room to supervise the setting of the table, singing to herself.

Then, almost at the very last, when Jadwin might be expected at any moment, her humour changed again, and again, for no discoverable reason.

Page, who came into her sister's room after dressing, to ask how she looked, found her harassed and out of sorts.She was moody, spoke in monosyllables, and suddenly declared that the wearing anxiety of house-keeping was driving her to distraction.Of all days in the week, why had Jadwin chosen this particular one to come to dinner.Men had no sense, could not appreciate a woman's difficulties.Oh, she would be glad when the evening was over.

Then, as an ultimate disaster, she declared that she herself looked "Dutchy." There was no style, no smartness to her dress; her hair was arranged unbecomingly; she was growing thin, peaked.In a word, she looked "Dutchy."All at once she flung off her roses and dropped into a chair.

"I will not go down to-night," she cried."You and Aunt Wess' must make out to receive Mr.Jadwin.Isimply will not see any one to-night, Mr.Jadwin least of all.Tell him I'm gone to bed sick--which is the truth, I am going to bed, my head is splitting."All persuasion, entreaty, or cajolery availed nothing.

Neither Page nor Aunt Wess' could shake her decision.

At last Page hazarded a remonstrance to the effect that if she had known that Laura was not going to be at dinner she would not have taken such pains with her own toilet.

Promptly thereat Laura lost her temper.

"I do declare, Page," she exclaimed, "it seems to me that I get very little thanks for ever taking any interest in your personal appearance.There is not a girl in Chicago--no millionaire's daughter--has any prettier gowns than you.I plan and plan, and go to the most expensive dressmakers so that you will be well dressed, and just as soon as I dare to express the desire to see you appear like a gentlewoman, I get it thrown in my face.And why do I do it? I'm sure Idon't know.It's because I'm a poor weak, foolish, indulgent sister.I've given up the idea of ever being loved by you; but I do insist on being respected."Laura rose, stately, severe.It was the "grand manner"now, unequivocally, unmistakably."I do insist upon being respected," she repeated."It would be wrong and wicked of me to allow you to ignore and neglect my every wish.I'll not have it, I'll not tolerate it."Page, aroused, indignant, disdained an answer, but drew in her breath and held it hard, her lips tight pressed.

"It's all very well for you to pose, miss," Laura went on; "to pose as injured innocence.But you understand very well what I mean.If you don't lave me, at least I shall not allow you to flout me--deliberately, defiantly.And it does seem strange," she added, her voice beginning to break, "that when we two are all alone in the world, when there's no father or mother--and you are all I have, and when I love you as I do, that there might be on your part--a little consideration--when I only want to be loved for my own sake, and not--and not----when I want to be, oh, loved--loved--loved----"

The two sisters were in each other's arms by now, and Page was crying no less than Laura.

"Oh, little sister," exclaimed Laura, "I know you love me.I know you do.I didn't mean to say that.You must forgive me and be very kind to me these days.Iknow I'm cross, but sometimes these days I'm so excited and nervous I can't help it, and you must try to bear with me.Hark, there's the bell."Listening, they heard the servant open the door, and then the sound of Jadwin's voice and the clank of his cane in the porcelain cane rack.But still Laura could not be persuaded to go down.No, she was going to bed;she had neuralgia; she was too nervous to so much as think.Her gown was "Dutchy." And in the end, so unshakable was her resolve, that Page and her aunt had to sit through the dinner with Jadwin and entertain him as best they could.

But as the coffee was being served the three received a genuine surprise.Laura appeared.All her finery was laid off.She wore the simplest, the most veritably monastic, of her dresses, plain to the point of severity.Her hands were bare of rings.Not a single jewel, not even the most modest ornament relieved her sober appearance.She was very quiet, spoke in a low voice and declared she had come down only to drink a glass of mineral water and then to return at once to her room.

As a matter of fact, she did nothing of the kind.The others prevailed upon her to take a cup of coffee.

Then the dessert was recalled, and, forgetting herself in an animated discussion with Jadwin as to the name of their steam yacht, she ate two plates of wine jelly before she was aware.She expressed a doubt as to whether a little salad would do her good, and after a vehement exhortation from Jadwin, allowed herself to be persuaded into accepting a sufficiently generous amount.