The Mystery Girl. Wells Carolyn

I have no desire to form new acquaintances, and I beg to be excused from appearing.”

      “But do you know who she is? She’s the lady that’s going to marry Doctor Waring, the new President. And Pinckney Payne, her cousin, is a mighty nice boy.”

      Mrs. Adams thought she detected an expression of wavering on the girl’s face, and she followed up her advantage.

      “Yes, he’s an awfully nice chap and just about your age, I should judge.”

      “I’ll go down,” said Miss Austin, briefly, and Mrs. Adams indulged in a sly smile of satisfaction.

      “It’s Pinky that fetched her,” she thought to herself. “Young folks are young folks, the world over.”

      Triumphantly, Mrs. Adams ushered Anita into the small parlor.

      “Mrs. Bates,” she said, “and Mr. Payne, – Miss Austin.”

      Then she left them, for Esther Adams had strict notions of her duties as a boarding-house landlady.

      “Mrs. Bates?” Anita said, going to her and taking her hand.

      “Yes, Miss Austin, – I am very glad to know you.”

      But the words ceased suddenly as Emily Bates looked into the girl’s eyes. Such a depth of sorrow was there, such unmistakable tragedy and a hint of fear. What could it all mean? Surely this was a strange girl.

      “We have never met before, have we?” Mrs. Bates said, – almost involuntarily, for the girl’s gaze was too intent to be given to a stranger.

      “No,” Anita said, recovering her poise steadily but slowly, – “not that I remember.”

      “We have,” burst forth the irrepressible Pinky. “I say, Miss Austin, please realize that I’m here as well as my more celebrated aunt! Don’t you remember the morning I met you on the bridge, – and you were just about to throw yourself over the parapet?”

      “Oh, no, I wasn’t,” and a delightful smile lighted the dark little face. The lips were very scarlet, but it was unmistakably Nature’s own red, and as they parted over even and pearly teeth, the smile transformed Miss Austin into a real beauty.

      It disappeared quickly, however, and Pinky Payne thenceforward made it his earnest endeavor to bring it back as often as possible.

      “Of course you weren’t,” agreed Mrs. Bates, “don’t pay any attention to that foolish boy.”

      “I’m a very nice boy, if I am foolish,” Pinky declared, but Miss Austin vaguely ignored him, and kept her intent gaze fixed on Emily Bates.

      “We thought perhaps you would go with us over to Doctor Waring’s for tea,” Mrs. Bates said, after an interval of aimless chat. “It would, I am sure be a pleasant experience for you. Wouldn’t you like it?”

      “Doctor Waring’s?” repeated Anita, her voice low and tense, as if the idea was of more importance than it seemed.

      “Yes; I may take you, for the Doctor is my fiance, – we are to be married next month.”

      “No!” cried the girl, with such a sharp intonation that Mrs. Bates was startled.

      “Sure they are,” put in Pinky, anxious to cover up any eccentricity on the part of this girl in whom he took an increasing interest. “They’re as blissful as two young turtle-doves. Come on, Miss Austin, let’s go over there. It’s a duck of a house to go to, and jolly good people there. The view from the study window is worth going miles to see. You’re an artist, – yes?”

      “I sketch some,” was the brief reply.

      “All right; if you can find a prettier spot to sketch on this terrestrial globe than the picture by the Waring study window, I’ll buy it for you! Toddle up and get your hat.”

      His gay good nature was infectious and Anita smiled again as she went for her hat and coat.

      The walk was but a short one, and when they entered the Waring home they found a cheery group having tea in the pleasant living room.

      Doctor Waring was not present and Mrs. Peyton was pouring tea, while Helen and Robert Tyler served it. The capable Ito had always Sunday afternoon for his holiday, and while Nogi, the Japanese second man, was willing enough, his training was incomplete, and his blunders frequent. He was a new servant, and though old Ito had hopes of educating him, Mrs. Peyton was doubtful about it. However, she thought, soon the responsibilities of the Waring menage would be hers no longer, and she resolved to get along with the inexperienced Nogi while she remained.

      Mrs. Peyton was very regretful at the coming change of affairs.

      She had looked upon John Waring as a confirmed bachelor, and had not expected he would ever marry. Now, she declared, he was marrying only because he thought it wiser for a College President to have a wife as a part of his domestic outfit.

      Helen disagreed with her mother about this. She said Doctor Waring had begun to take a personal interest in the attractive Mrs. Bates before he had any idea of becoming President of the University.

      But it didn’t matter. The wedding was imminent, and Mrs. Peyton had received due notice that her services would be no longer needed.

      It was a blow to her, and it had made her depressed and disconsolate. Also, a little resentful, even spiteful toward Emily Bates.

      The housekeeper greeted Miss Austin with a cold smile, and then disregarded her utterly.

      Helen was frankly curious, and met the newcomer with full intention of finding out all about her.

      For Helen Peyton had heard of Miss Mystery from her friend and admirer, Robert Tyler, who, however, did not report that the girl had snubbed him more than once.

      One or two other guests were present and, having been told of Mrs. Bates’ arrival Doctor Waring and his secretary came from the study and joined the others at tea.

      With a welcoming smile, John Waring greeted his fiancee, and then Mrs. Bates turned to the girl she had brought.

      “Miss Austin,” she said, “let me present Doctor Waring. John, – Miss Anita Austin.”

      At that very moment Helen Peyton offered Waring a cup of tea, and he was in the act of taking it from her hand when Mrs. Bates made the introduction.

      The cup and saucer fell to the floor with a crash, and those nearest saw the Doctor’s face blanch suddenly white, and his hand clench on a nearby chair.

      But with a sudden, desperate effort he pulled himself together, and gave a little laugh, as he directed Nogi to remove the wrecked teacup.

      “Pick up the four corners, and carry it all off at once,” he ordered, pointing to the small rug on which the cup had fallen, and Nogi, a little clumsily, obeyed.

      “Pardon the awkwardness, Miss Austin,” he said, turning to smile at the girl, but even as he did so, his voice trembled, and he turned hastily away.

      “What is it, John?” asked Emily Bates, going to his side. “Are you ill?”

      “No, – no, dear; it’s – it’s all right. That foolish teacup upset my nerves. I’ll go off by myself for a few moments.”

      Somewhat abruptly, he left the room and went back to his study.

      Listening intently, Mrs. Bates heard him lock the door on the inside.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, turning to Anita, “but I know you’ll forgive Doctor Waring. He is under so much strain at present, and a foolish accident, like the broken teacup, is enough to give him a nervous shock.”

      “I know,” said the girl, sympathetically. “He must be very busy and absorbed.”

      She spoke, as she often did, in a perfunctory way, as if not interested in what she was saying. Her glance wandered and she bit her red lower lip, as if nervous herself. Yet she was exceedingly quiet and calm of demeanor, and her graceful attitudes betokened only a courteous if disinterested guest.

      Gordon Lockwood