Romance Classics (12 page)

Phil’s face twisted with pain and he bent a little forward over the wheel, as though trying to avoid her eyes.

“Do you suppose I’ve thought of anything else since we knew he was alive?” he asked harshly.

The silence lasted, and finally he straightened and looked down at her, his expression once more under control. There was even a taut smile on his lips, though it did nothing to soften the bleak look in his eyes.

“And even knowing all this — the way I feel about Gerry — you are willing to marry me?” he asked, and there was something faintly like derision in his tone.

Sally winced and turned her face away, lest he see something in her eyes that she must not let him guess.

“I knew all along, my darling,” she said at last, her voice husky. “But I can’t seem to do anything about it. I suppose if I had any pride — but then, a woman in love can’t afford such a luxury, can she?”

She turned to him then, the tears misty in her eyes, her voice shaken.

“I want you any way I can get you, dearest,” she told him and made a little expressive gesture with her hands. ‘“There! There’s my pride, all done up in an untidy little bundle and offered to you.”

Phil’s face was white.

“You deserve a better break.”

“But if I don’t want a better break? If I’m quite satisfied?”

He nodded then as though he had reached a difficult decision and started the car.

“Then I’m very much afraid, Sally my girl, you’ve got yourself a husband, heaven have pity on you,” he said and tried hard to smile at her.

Sally dared not trust herself to speak, lest her exultation be too strong for revelation to him at this moment. She had put it over! She was going to be married to the man Gerry loved, and some small bit of the ancient score she had chalked up against Gerry all the years since they had been children together, was going to be settled.

As the car slid back into the highway, she put her band for a fleeting moment on Phil’s and said huskily, “Darling, I won’t let you be sorry!”

Phil answered wryly, “That’s hardly the question. Are you so sure
you’re
not going to be sorry?”

“Never, Phil — never!” she assured him radiantly. “I’m going to be such a good wife, and some day, maybe you’ll care for me — just a little! That’s why I can start out like this, Phil, knowing that you don’t love me now, but feeling so very sure, my darling, that some day you will!”

Phil hesitated and his jaw set hard. But he kept back the words, and Sally said softly, “Some day, Phil. I can wait for what I want — so terribly.”

Phil took his hand from the wheel for a moment and held hers close and hard. But the bitterness and the pain had not quite faded from his eyes, despite the little ghost of pity that stood there for a moment.

Geraldine went back upstairs to her own room. She did not quite know how the time passed; she sat at the window looking out at the sun-drenched morning.

Yesterday she let herself be flung off her mental balance by Sally’s poisoned insinuations; she knew now that without those little barbs of Sally’s, she would never have made a fool of herself when Tip came alone up the drive at dusk. And her sober common sense tried desperately to tell her that she was letting her thoughts run away with her now.

Suppose Phil and Sally
had
driven away to the county seat? That didn’t necessarily mean that they were going to be married; she was being a fool to think of such a thing. She hadn’t seen Phil; maybe he hadn’t wanted to see her. The exhibition she had made of herself last night had been embarrassing; it would make things extremely awkward for Phil. It was perfectly natural that he would want to get away from the house for a while, away from the others who had witnessed that scene. And what more natural than that he should ask Sally to go with him?

Dimly she heard the ringing of the telephone, but she paid no attention to it. She was still sitting there, looking with wide, sick eyes out into the sunny morning, when Tip knocked at her door and came in.

She knew, by her first look at him, that something had happened. She got unsteadily to her feet, paling.

“Tip — what — ” Her voice stuck in her throat.

“Pull yourself together, Gerry. It’s going to be a hard knock,” Tip said evenly, pity in his eyes.

“Tell me — ”

“Sally just telephoned,” said Tip quietly. “She and Phil are on their way to the county seat to be married.”

Mercifully he let her have it with brevity.

For a moment she stood quite still, drawn to her full height, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“Poor little Gerry,” said Tip huskily.

She shook her head then, her eyes blurred with tears.

“It’s my own fault,” she said steadily. “I should have been honest with you at the start. I wanted to be, only I wasn’t brave enough. I had no right to play games. It’s only what I deserved.”

Tip put his arm about her, gently, as though he were her brother, and she leaned against him, grateful for the support of his arms.

For a little they were still, and then she made herself laugh. A little ragged laugh that was half a sob.

“Tip, you’ve got to hurry and find Jamie before it’s too late,” she said then.

“I’ve been on the long distance telephone for the last hour,” he said quietly. “I know where she is — a hospital in New York State. I’ve sent her a wire, and I’m going to call her tonight.”

“I’m so terribly glad for you, Tip, and for Jamie,” she told him with simple sincerity.

“Look, Gerry, I’m going back to town right away,” he said quickly. “Want to go with me?”

“Oh, Tip — yes!”

He nodded.

“I thought you’d want to.” He smiled hearteningly. “Throw a few duds into a suitcase, and I’ll take you to Beth. We can see my attorneys in the morning, and you can leave for Reno or wherever you want to go tomorrow afternoon! You’ll want to get away — fast!”

“You’re sweet, Tip.” She tried to thank him but her voice shook, and she set her teeth hard in her lower lip.

“So are you, Gerry,” said Tip gently. “It’s a shame it couldn’t have worked out — but neither of us is to blame. We can always be friends, Gerry, can’t we?”

“Of course, Tip — always.”

He touched his lips to the top of her head, grinned at her hearteningly, and said briskly, “I’m ready to shove off any time you are, Gerry I”

“Give me fifteen minutes,” she promised rashly.

He nodded and the door closed behind him.

Swiftly, with shaking fingers, she got out of her dress and changed into a sheer dark dress more suitable for traveling. She was just adjusting her hat when there was a tap at the door, and Betsy thrust her head in, her eyes widening as she took in the dark dress and hat.

“Hi, what gives?” she demanded, coming in and closing the door behind her, making no effort to hide her curiosity.

“Tip’s driving me back to town,” answered Geraldine.

“I see,” said Betsy, and obviously didn’t “Then you and Tip are — all right?”

“Of course,” answered Geraldine, and selected gloves and a bag with meticulous care. “We are seeing his attorneys in the morning, and I’m leaving for the West immediately.”

Betsy’s eyes widened.

“For — the usual reason?” she gasped incredulously.

“For a divorce,” answered Geraldine.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I didn’t think Tip would be such a dope. Good gosh, Gerry, can’t he understand that you just sort of lost your head for a couple of minutes?”

Geraldine turned to her quietly.

“Betsy, you’re my best friend and I want you to know the truth, so that you can put an end to a lot of scandalous rumors and gossip,” she said swiftly. “Tip is not in love with me. He hasn’t been for a long time. He wants to be free quite as much as I do. And last night, he realized that he and I had both been making a pretense, nothing else. And so, like a couple of reasonably sensible people, we are ending a situation that has made three people very unhappy.”

Betsy blinked, and after a moment she repeated, “Three people? What about Phil?”

Geraldine turned away, concealing her face.

“Phil and Sally are being married this morning at the county seat.” She made herself say it quietly and steadily.

Betsy gave a little gasp and cried out,
‘What?
You mean she pulled it off after what happened last night? Why, the rotten little — ”

“Don’t, Betsy!” Geraldine cut in and in spite of herself, her voice was ragged with pain. “After all, Sally couldn’t very well force Phil to marry her at the point of a gun.”

“She’s quite capable of it. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“We’re both being ridiculous. Phil’s marrying Sally because he wants to, and that’s that,” stated Geraldine crisply. “And now I’m going to cut and run for it. I know I ought to be modern and sophisticated and all that. Maybe announce our impending divorce at the luncheon table as one announces an engagement, but I can’t quite make it I guess I’m just — just a country girl at heart.”

“Take it on the lam, pal,” said Betsy almost gruffly. “I’ll make whatever announcement is necessary. Anyway, Ted is your friend and Tip’s. He’ll understand.”

Geraldine smiled at her.

“Thanks, chum. You’re aces,” she said as she gave Betsy a little hug.

“Send me a picture postcard from Reno. I may be trekking out that way some day myself,” said Betsy darkly.

Geraldine hurried down the stairs and out through the side door to where Tip waited in the car.

“I didn’t say good-bye to your mother.” She hesitated, reluctant to face the ordeal.

Tip said wryly, “Think nothing of it, Gerry, my pet. She’s lying down in a darkened room, plentifully supplied with eau de cologne and cold cloths for her head!”

Geraldine got into the car beside him, and as they rolled down the drive, she unconsciously gave a deep sigh and straightened her shoulders and tilted her head back to breathe deeply.

Tip looked at her oddly.

“A little like being released from prison, isn’t it, Gerry?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Color burned in her face and she said awkwardly, “It’s just that — well, I’m mixed up, Tip.”

Tip nodded. “I know, but you’ve never been really happy with me, have you, Gerry?”

“That’s not true, Tip. I was! I
was!”
she protested unsteadily. “It’s just that — well, I seemed to have grown up while you were gone.”

“I know. I did, too,” Tip answered her.

Geraldine nodded. “Oh, Tip, darling, I do hope that it will be all right with you and Jamie.”

Tip said evenly, “It will be, I’m sure of it. I was a little worried about Bob Drake, but he’s been discharged and has married his hometown sweetheart and Jamie is still free.”

“I’m glad,” said Geraldine simply.

He hesitated a moment and then he said awkwardly, “I’m sorry as the dickens about Phil, Gerry.”

She quivered a little but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. “Thanks, Tip, but you don’t have to be. If he wanted to marry Sally, he was quite free to do so. After all, he and I said good-bye, firmly and definitely, before you ever came back. That was the way it had to be.”

“I know, Gerry, but it’s such a rotten break for you.”

She made herself smile at him, her mouth firm.

“You needn’t be. I’ll get over it,” she told him quietly. “What’s that old line — ’Men have died, and worms have eaten them — but not for love’?”

“Now there’s a nice cheerful thought for a bright summer morning. You’re not going morbid on me, by any chance?”

Geraldine’s laugh was slightly more convincing.

“Of course not. I can’t imagine where that quotation came from, and I assure you I have no intention of going into a decline or grieving my heart out. After all, I’m still young and the world is full of interesting and exciting things for a career girl.

Tip, unexpectedly grave, stopped her.

“We haven’t had a chance to discuss financial arrangements, or anything like that, Gerry,” he told her swiftly. “But you know, of course, that you will be amply provided for.”

“I don’t want — ”

“It makes no difference what you want, it’s what you’re going to get,” Tip told her flatly. “There will be a substantial settlement that will give you an income sufficient to live comfortably and even indulge in a mild extravagance here and there.”

“But, Tip — ” she protested.

“It’s either that, Gerry, or I’ll contest the divorce,” he threatened, and, startled, she saw that he meant it. “You’re giving me Jamie and, through me, you’ve lost Phil. For the love of Mike, don’t you want me to have any happiness at all?”

“Of
course,
Tip — You know — ”

“And
you
know that I’d never draw a peaceful breath if I had to think of you, out earning a living, growing old and haggard and tired with the battle. Oh, no, my pet! You’re going to be a good girl and let me salve my conscience by making as handsome a settlement on you as I can — and that’s that!”

“But, Tip, I
like
to work.”

“Then develop a hobby and make money out of it if you can — but you’re going to have a decent income, from a settlement, or I’m going to contest the divorce and keep you tied to me for the rest of your life! And don’t think I don’t mean that, either. I’m not the one to make idle threats, pet!” His tone, as much as his words, warned her that he was in deadly earnest.

“We’ll talk it over with Beth and Tom,” she temporized.

“Oh, no, we won’t. We’ll settle it here and now and that’s that!” he cut in and now there was an edge to his voice. “One half of my stock in the mills is going to be transferred to you.”

“But, Tip, there’s Jamie. You’ll want children — you won’t want to support two wives,” she protested.

He grinned at her.

“Oh, there’ll be plenty for Jamie and a family, and neither of us could enjoy our happiness unless we knew that at least your financial wants were taken care of.”

And because she saw that he was determined and there was no argument that could sway him, she finally yielded, but with reluctance. A reluctance Tip could not fail to see and read.

“Sorry you dislike me so much.”

“Oh, now you’re being silly.”