McCauley!)
'Johnny, what . . . ?'
'Follow me. Listen to me. Believe me, Dotty.'
He started up the stairs, dragging her. There was nobody below the stairs to stop them but Blanche stood at the top.
'Dorothy, dear? We are ready. Mr. Sims, please . . .'
'I've got to see Nan.'
'But you can't.'
'Yes, I can,' said Johnny loudly. 'I am bringing her a wedding present.'
'Not now, Mr. Sims.' Blanche was propriety outraged. 'Please go downstairs at once.'
'No, Mrs. Bartee.' Johnny stood his ground. 'I have something to tell her.'
Dick Bartee came out of a door up the hall. Big. Thunderous. 'What's this?'
Dorothy said feebly, 'I don't know.'
Johnny swung around. 'Bartee. I came up with a wedding present. Let me give it to you both at once. Where is Nan?'
'We don't need anything from you,' Dick said truculently.
The door of the back bedroom shook. Then it opened. There was Nan, in white, without a veil, her bridehood in her face. Young and fair and solemn—in the dream.
Johnny didn't move toward her but he sent his voice. 'Nan, please let me tell you both something? Something to make you glad.'
Nan said in a low voice, 'I don't need to be told. I know Dick is innocent.'
Dick moved and put his frame between her and the others. 'If you are still trying to mess up this wedding, SiuQS, I' can throw yotTdown the stairs and that right quick,'
Johnny said, 'For Nan's sake, let me explain.' He looked earnestly into the gray eyes, which were hot and suspicious. 'Then I will dance at your wedding,' Johnny said. 'Believe me.'
Bart came up the stairs. 'What's holding . . .? What's this?' Blanche made a nerve-wracked sound.
Dick said to Nan tenderly, 'You don't have to Hsten to him, love. Shall I take him away?'
'If Johnny wants to apologize,' she said, with the little prim dignity of old, 'I think we should let him do it, Dick. We all want to be happy.'
Dorothy wailed suddenly, 'Johnny! Dancel'
Blanche said, 'The guests will hear.'
Bart said, 'Get into a room. We'll have this out.''
Johnny said, 'Where is Christy's picture?'
'I have it,' Nan said.
Bart brushed off the pawing appeal of Blanche's nervous hand. 'Whatever this is, we can't just say hush-hush,' he
told her sternly. 'Now, get in here, all of us and let me close the door.'
Bart closed the door and stood against it. His smooth face was inscrutable. But Johnny knew Bart was on his side.
So they were all in the back bedroom, closed in. The room was not neat. A girl, getting ready for her wedding, had left her fragrant traces. There on the dresser, propped against the wall, was Christy's picture.
Johnny seized it with both hands. 'And me the young scientist!' he said. 'Me, the biology professorl Look at this!'
Christy's young face laughed out at them all. 'Nan, dear, here is '' for the bride. Do you see her blue eyes?' Johnny had taken the floor. He commanded all the attention. He had to do it with a certain overbearing flamboyance. 'Now look at Dorothy!' he cried.
'But why should I look at Dorothy?' said Nan, bewildered.
'Because,' said Johnny, 'Aunt Emily changed you two around! You are not Christy and Clinton McCauley's child. You cannot he. So Dorothy is.'
Dorothy said faintly, 'What?'
'Science.' Johnny put the picture down. ''! don't care what anyone says. You can't get away from discovered laws. Don't forget, I saw Clinton McCauley in prison. And his eyes are hlue, blue, blue.' He hammered it at them. This was the touchy moment. (Johnny gave thanks that Bart was on his side.)
'Well?' said Dick Bartee distastefully.
Inside Johnny, something relaxed. He didn't let it show. 'Don't you know what that means?' he cried. 'It means that Nan cannot be their child. Dorothy is. Emily protected Nan in depth, I guess. Don't ask me why she did it. But it has absolutely got to be so. Your eyes are brown, Nan.'
'Well, I—know they are,' Nan said in confusion.
Bart stirred, 'That's true,' he said flatly, 'two blue-eyed people—'
