CHAPTER XXI

Persis had not misjudged Forbes. If she had told him then that she was

another man's betrothed, he would have changed his whole attitude toward

her. He would have flirted with her no more. He would have ceased to

regard her with ambition or desire. She would have become again only

another piece of jewelry in a shop-window--beautiful, but not for him;

beautiful, but already bespoken. He was not of the covetous and

burglarious type that always wants other people's property.

Equally, the romance would have ended before it began if Forbes had told

Persis that he was not rich, as Ten Eyck had carelessly assumed.

Persis might have liked him and admired him and been great friends with

him; but she would not have admitted him to the anteroom that all hearts

have where those eligible to the inner soul are first admitted to wait

their time.

Persis did not make a test of money any more than the rest of her set

did. Many enormously wealthy strugglers were wasting coin and labor in a

vain effort to bribe a smile from these really unimportant persons. Many

poor artists, actors, authors, town wits, were welcomed to their boon

companionship. These latter paid their way by bringing along their charm

or notoriety as their contribution to the picnic. But they rarely

married into the set.

In spite of all the talk of snobbery and wealth-worship, it is really

very simple. People are people, and classes are merely clubs where more

or less congenial neighbors coagulate, more or less haphazard. Those

that cannot pay the dues drop into other clubs. Even labor-unions are

run in that way.

And in classes as well as in clubs two kinds of persons are most

offensive: those who try to force their way in unsolicited, and those

who do not keep up their end of the expenses. The social struggler and

the man who never stands treat when it comes his turn are welcome

nowhere, from the slums up.

Some such thought as this came by coincidence into Forbes' mind. He

realized suddenly that he was accepting a deal of hospitality and

repaying none. He knew that he could do nothing to dazzle these people,

but he could not endure to take their favors as charities or tips. He

was wondering vaguely just what he could do when the problem was solved

for him.

He was resolved not to relinquish what he had gained in Persis' esteem.

He would cling to her, keep at her heels, till the chance came to prove

how dear he held her.

He had dropped the question of her betrothal to Enslee, sure that it was

a paradox. Now he realized that he had no further promise of meeting

Persis except on horseback and with her father alongside. He put forth

an antenna.

"Am I ever going to see you again?"

"I shouldn't be at all surprised," she answered, blowing neither cold

nor hot.

"To-morrow?"

"Maybe."

"Where?"

"Oh, I'll probably be dancing at some tea-place or other, as usual."

"Don't you ever stop dancing?"

"Sometimes."

"Could I see you one of those times?"

"Why, yes, of course."

"When?"

"Oh, almost any time."

"Any time is no time."

"I haven't my engagement-book here. I can't remember."

He was hoping that she would ask him to call, but she failed to take the

hook. He surprised himself by saying with an abrupt rashness:

"Will you take lunch with me to-morrow?"

He had a vision of a charming little hour alone with her in the solitude

made by a crowd. She missed the point, and asked:

"Do you mean all of us?"

"I suppose I do. I reckon I wouldn't dare ask you alone."

"I reckon you betta hadn't," she said, mocking his accent as best she

could.

"When will you-all come?"

"Oh, it would be right smart of a job to get us-all together at the same

time."

He smiled at her burlesque, but persisted:

"How would you like to--to give the party and order the fodder? I'm just

back from the Philippines, you know. I could get up a mess for my

company, but I'm afraid I couldn't feed you people to your liking."

"Oh, nobody eats anything any more, or drinks much of anything."

"All the more reason for having what you do have right. Won't you order

it for me, and tell me where to have it?"

She was tempted to seize the chance. It was a delight to her to compose

a meal. It was a kind of millinery or dressmaking in its art of

arrangement. She checked herself on the brink of acceptance, realizing

that it would set people to talking if she conducted Forbes'

entertainments for him. Even Willie, who was neither very observing nor

very jealous, would raise a row at that.

"I'll tell you," she said. "Ask Mrs. Neff to be the hostess. You're

under some obligations to her, and none to me."

"May I ask her to order the luncheon, too?" said Forbes, with dwindled

enthusiasm.

"Oh no; you must do that!"

"I'm afraid I don't know what to have."

"It's the simplest thing in the world. Just go to the Ritz-Carlton and

ask for Fernand. Tell him I'm coming, and I said for him to take good

care of you--of us. And now let's see who can come."

She strolled about with him while he made his invitations. Everybody had

engagements of various sorts, but they were brittle. Mrs. Neff was

flattered immeasurably, and asked if she could bring Alice along. She

was afraid to leave her lest she connive with Stowe Webb at some

escapade. Bob Fielding could not come so far up-town from his office,

and Winifred could be present only if she were permitted to be late.

"I'm not allowed to eat anything, anyway," she moaned, "except a little

dried toast and some lemon-juice; and the waiters treat me like a dog.

But I'll be there if you'll protect me."

Ten Eyck had planned to run down to Piping Rock, but he would not desert

Forbes in his hour of peril. Willie had an important engagement with one

of the executors of his father's estate, but he quickly shifted it when

he found that Persis was to be present. This made seven all told, four

women and three men.

"I could get more if you want," said Persis; "but seven is lucky, and

more is no fun."

"Seven is just right," said Forbes, with a little premonitory chill at

the thought of the probable cost.

It was finally agreed that they were to lunch late, take a little spin

round town, and then turkey-trot again in the afternoon.

Forbes was amazed at himself. Now he was to play the host, and Persis

was to be at his elbow! Or should he put her opposite him, as if she

were his wife? What a decoration she would be at a man's home table!

The word "home" took a new timbre in his soul. Hitherto home had meant

the tall, white columns and broad lawns where his mother lived. Now it

began to mean almost any place--soldiers' quarters, hotel--any place

where Persis would rest awhile. Even the humming-bird has a nest to go

to when its wings are tired. Some day Persis must nest, too. Her wings

could not beat on forever.