"I did, for one," said Miss Vanderwall, flicking the ashes from
her cigarette with a well-groomed fingertip. "Clarence
Breckenridge never was in love but once in his life--no, I don't
mean with Paula. I mean with Billy." And as a general nodding of
heads confirmed this theory, the speaker went on decidedly: "Since
that child was born she's been all the world to him. When he and
Paula were divorced--she was the offender--he fretted himself sick
for fear he'd done that precious five-year-old an injury. She
didn't get on with her grandmother, she drove governesses insane,
for two or three years there was simply no end of trouble. Finally
he took her abroad, for the excellent reason that she wanted to
go. In Paris they ran into Rachael Fairfax and her mother--let's
see, that was seven years ago. Rachael was only about twenty-one
or two then. But she'd been out since she was sixteen. She had the
bel air, she was beautiful--not as pretty as she is now, perhaps--
and of course her father was dead, and Rachael was absolutely on
the make. She took both Clarence and Billy in hand. I understand
the child was wearing jewelry and staying up until all hours every
night. Rachael mothered her, and of course the child came to
admire her. The funny thing is that Rachael and Billy hit it off
very well to this day.
"She and Clarence were married quietly, and came home. And I don't
think it was weeks, it was DAYS--and not many days--later, that
Rachael realized what a fool she'd been. Clarence had eyes for no
one but the girl, and of course she was a fascinating little
creature, and she's more fascinating every year."
"She's not as attractive as Rachael at that," said Peter Pomeroy.
"I know, my dear Peter," Miss Vanderwall assented quickly. "But
Billy's impulsive, and affectionate, at least, and Rachael is
neither. Anyway, Billy's at the age now when she can't think of
anything but herself. Her frocks, her parties, her friends--that's
all Clarence cares about!"
"Selfish ass!" said a man's voice in the firelight.
"I KNOW Clarence takes Carol and her friends off on week-end
trips," some woman said, "and leaves Rachael at home. If Rachael
wants the car, she has to ask them their plans. If she accepts a
dinner invitation, why, Clarence may drop out the last moment
because Carol's going to dine alone at home and wants her Daddy."
"Rachael's terribly decent about it," said the deep voice of old
Mrs. Torrence, who was chaperoning a grandson, glad of any excuse
to be at the club. "Upon my word I wouldn't be! She will breakfast
upstairs many a morning because Clarence likes Carol to pour his
coffee. And when that feller comes home tipsy--"