downstairs? Shall I go tell them the ceremony is postponed?'
Nan said, 'No, no. Not at all. Dotty will be all right, in
a minute. Dotty, don't cry any more. We'll be right down, tell them.' Nan was pumping up the dream. 'Johnny, thank you. But you go downstairs now. And, Dick, darling, go down and wait for me?'
Dick seemed to hesitate. Johnny said to him, mockingly, 'Why don't you call Copeland long distance? Check up on the matter? Before the ceremony?' Johnny's green eyes met the gray eyes.
'What is there to check?' Dick said easily. 'Nan is still Nan. Is Dorothy surely all right?' he added.
Dorothy straightened her back and lifted her head. 'A little powder and paint,' she said in her normal voice. The blue eyes were wet.
Johnny kissed her. Dick Bartee was there to see. Then Johnny went out of the back bedroom. Blanche followed, and passed him, scurrying down the stairs to her social responsibilities.
Dick Bartee came out. Johnny turned his head. Johnny could read nothing in the eyes. 'Well,' Johnny said with his ovTi face a blank, 'wish you luck.'
'Luck to you too.' The hps drew back from the perfect teeth. 'When and if we meet in court.'
'You are sure you want to meet me in a court?'' aSked Johnny.
Dick's eyes lost any look of seeing. They went dead. They blotted Johnny out. Dick turned away.
Johnny started down, hunting back for the exact flavor of the exchange. Bart caught hirn up. Their eyes slid sideways to each other's.
'Science is a wonderful thing,' said Bart dryly.
CHAPTER 20
Dick Bartee mtent along the upstairs hall toward the front of tlie house. He stopped before a door on the right and listened. Blanche and Bart were hosts, downstairs. So he
swung boldly into their bedroom, where there was a telephone.
Waiting for the long distance call to go through, he held his jaw clenched. It was the only sign of his anger.
Mr. Copeland's office regretted that Mr. Copeland was not in today.
'Try his home,' Dick said. The operator got the home number.
A woman's voice answered there.
'Long distance, calling Mr. Charles Copeland.'
'He's away. This is Mrs. Copeland. Who . . .?'
'I'll talk to Mrs. Copeland,' Dick broke in.
The operator retreated.
'Can you tell me where I can reach your husband?' He sent his voice purring north. 'I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's rather important.'
'Well, he flew down to Hestia,' the voice said. 'I don't know exactly where. I'm sorry.'
'Can you tell me how long he'll be there?' Dick said in a moment.
'Oh, I should think not very long.' The voice was responding to his puir. It wanted to please. 'He only had to break the news of a—a death, you see. I'm hoping he will be home this evening, since he flew.'
'I see. That's sad.'
'Yes, it is,' she said plaintively. 'Of course, I suppose it was his duty.' The voice was brave and lonely.
'You wouldn't know the name of the people, Mrs. Copeland, where I might call?'
'The name. Yes, he did tell me. It's McCauley.' She went on when she heard no reaction. 'That's all I know. I don't suppose that helps . . .'
'It may help,' said Dick softly. 'Thank you very much.''
'Not at all. Whom shall I say . . . ?'
But he had hung up.
His eyes flickered; the lids came down. He took two strides out the door. In the hall he patted his tie. He was frowning. Then he walked, and his feet dragged, toward the stairs.
Johnny went into the parlor, became a wedding guest. Marshall was there. They nodded but did not speak. The
minister was waiting in the study, for a signal. The parlor waited. Johnny waited.
(Would it work? Science is the bugaboo today. People, believing in nothing else, beheve in science. Let him beHeve it, Johnny prayed. Let him think he isn't marrying the money. Keep him unable to remember that McCauley's eyes are brown. As Bart remembers. Let him betray that it's the money.)
Upstairs, Nan said, 'Can you fix your face, Dotty? Don't spoil my wedding.'
Dorothy was holding a cold, wet cloth to her eyes. 'I'll be all right.'
'I wonder,' Nan wandered on the rug, 'which of us is the older, then?'
