Part 62

“I didn't ask you to rig up a dirty conspiracy to queer me.”

“Richard, you are not yourself. You have been drinking!” She tried to exhibit protesting indignation and failed. “Come to me when you are yourself.”

“There's no more of this to-morrow business goes with me, Mrs. Kilgour. I'll admit that you're Kate's mother. But just now you are something else. You have tried to do me, and nobody gets by with that stuff--man, woman, or child. We'll have our settlement here and now.”

“I did the best I could,” she wailed.

“Out of what damnation novel did you get that idea?” he raged.

“It seemed to be a good plan, Richard. I swear by everything sacred I thought it would come out all right. Don't rave at me.” Her voice sunk to an appealing whisper. She picked up a book from her table. “If you will only listen--”

“So you did get it out of a novel! My God! what have your fool ideas done to me?”

“How do you dare to talk to Kate's mother like that?”

“I am not talking to Kate's mother, I tell you! I'm talking to a woman who has put me into a hell on earth. I'm talking to you, Mrs. Kilgour, and you don't know the whole story yet.”

“All my life it has been the same--only trouble and sorrow and to be misunderstood.” She began to sob.

“Is there anything in that novel about ringing in an iceman to break up a marriage? I say it was all a conspiracy. You didn't intend to be square. You intended to rig a scheme so that you could duck out from under. You have always done that, Mrs. Kilgour.”

“I had nothing to do with that man coming in.”

“Don't try to fool me any more. You told me to come, didn't you? You must have told some yarn to your daughter to have her come.”

“I did--it was all--”

“And then you told that plug-ugly to come in, too, and break it up so as to queer me. Why did I ever fall for such lunacy? If I hadn't been desperate I would never have let you drag me into such a devilish scheme. But now you have got to do your part to square me. It's going to be straight talk from now on, Mrs. Kilgour. There must be a settlement between us.”

She looked away from him. She was plainly searching her soul for excuses to postpone that settlement.

“That person who came in, Dicky! I swear I did not arrange any such thing. He is only an iceman. I don't know the man. It was some accident. If the matter hadn't been interrupted! It was going along all right.”

“What's the matter with your intellect? You know it wasn't going along at all! You simply had us chasing shadows. Good God! I ought to have made you tell me what you were planning. Think of it! Think of me waltzing down there like a boob and thinking you had something real to offer.”

“But you frightened her with that jailbird. You should have brought a real clergyman.”

“The man I brought has the power to perform marriages! I would have made a nice spectacle towing a clergyman into that mess, wouldn't I?”

She broke in upon his further speech. She wrung her hands, paltering, pleading, trying to explain, trying more desperately to postpone that settlement he was demanding.

“But, honestly, it did seem to be a good plan, Dicky. I'm her mother. I know her nature. You know how some natures have to be handled! She is so self-centered. She has to be taken by surprise. She has to know that she is making a sacrifice. That is why I arranged it all for Rose Alley and borrowed that house. And I had it all planned out what to say to her at the last moment there.”

“Well, what was this great thing you were going to say?” He glared at her, disgust and suspicion in his eyes.

She flushed. She hesitated, unable to meet his gaze.

“It's no use to tell you now, Dicky. Somehow, now that I come to think it all over, it sounds rather tame. It all did seem so plausible, what I was going to say when I sat down and planned out the thing. And the romance of it--you know even self-centered girls like to feel that a man wants them so much that he gets desperate--and she said once that she would marry you some time--perhaps--and--”

“Oh, you--you--” He broke in and then stopped, lacking words. “What's the use?” he muttered. “You don't even know your own daughter. She has been enduring me because you have been keeping at her. I understand it now. You told me you could hurry it up. You have made me look like a melodrama villain. You have made her hate me. Now own up! Didn't she rave to you after you got home and tell you she hated me? You have nailed me to the cross for ever where she is concerned--now haven't you? Own up.”

“I can win her back, Dicky. Give me a little time.” But she was not able to look at him. “Don't scold me any more. I'm her mother. She will obey her own mother in time. Don't hurt my sensitive nature any more.” She began to weep, twisting her rings on her trembling fingers.

He scowled at her, narrowing his eyes. “You haven't been playing square with me, Mrs. Kilgour.”