“Mimi, I’m afraid you don’t realize how serious a thing this is. Do you know what’ll happen to you and your reputation? And who’s the man?”
She told him simply and freely. Still her manner was a source of wonder to him. Ordinarily such a message would have brought forth tears, protestations of innocence, pleas for help. Mimi did none of these.
His face was set in grim lines as she told of Carl.
“The scoundrel! We’ll make him marry you and save your name from being dragged in the mud.”
“No—no, Doctor, you don’t understand. We’ve done nothing wrong, and if we have I’m as much to blame as Carl. Please don’t say anything about this until I see him. …”
She telephoned Carl, who came over to her house at once. She greeted him happily, the light of love yet shining in her face.
“Carl,” she cried as soon as he entered, “I’m going to have a baby!”
“You’re what?”
“I’m going to have a baby—Dr. Adams told me so this afternoon—I’m so happy,” she ended, a puzzled tone creeping into her voice.
“Did he ask you who was the father?”
“Yes, of course he did.”
“Who did you tell him?”
“Why, you, of course.”
He turned on her roughly.
“You little fool, what did you want to do that for?”
She gazed at him in dismay. She had expected a happiness equal to her own. Instead Carl glared at her as though he wanted to spring at her throat. With his anger was mingled fear—humiliation—she knew not what emotions passed rapidly over his countenance.
“Don’t you tell anybody else,” he demanded. “And tomorrow I’ll take you to a doctor who’ll fix you up—”
“Fix me up?”
“Yes—fix you up! Don’t you understand?”
Realization of what he meant came slowly to her. A bitterness filled her, bitterness that knew no end, bitterness worse than any she had ever known before. This, then, was the Carl she had loved, a shriveling coward. What a fool she had been to have believed that to him their love was the beautiful thing which it had been to her.
“My dad’ll kill me for this—he’ll drive me away like a dog …” Carl was saying hoarsely.
He straightened up, fear leaving him.
“No—no—Mimi. We’ll go straight to mother and she’ll help us. We’ll go away and get married—pretend we eloped.”
He sought to put his arms around her. In his gesture there was a new note of possessiveness, his indecisiveness of the minutes before now gone.
She shrank from his touch. Her head went high and in her eyes was a look that frightened him.
“We’ll do nothing of the kind!” she cried. “I was a fool—you are right. I thought you were fine—clean—different from the others. You’re not. You’re just the same weak, vile sort that you were always hating and denouncing.”
“That’s all right, Mimi,” he sought to quiet her. “You’re all unstrung now. We’ll get married and give the kid a clean name—”
Mimi looked at him and in that glance was something that silenced him.
“Unstrung? Give the baby a clean name? After what you just suggested? You’ll do nothing of the sort! I’m going to have this baby, do you hear me? I’m going to have him and he’s going to be all mine. I guess he can get along lots easier with just a bad name than he can with a cowardly father—”
“Mimi, you don’t know what you’re saying!” Carl, now thoroughly alarmed, pleaded. “We’ve got to get married!”
“Got to? Well, we haven’t got to and we won’t! I’ll get along somehow, don’t you worry, but all the love I had for you has turned to black hate! This baby’ll be mine—all mine!”
She rushed from the room, leaving him standing there. …
Safe in her room, she let the tears she had fought so hard to check in the parlour below flow without hindrance. As from a distance, she heard the front door slam and she breathed more easily, knowing Carl was no longer in the house.
She wondered why she had acted as she had, knowing as she did the full reason. Bitterness filled her as she went again and again over the scene just ended. Faith, deep, unlimited, had been killed. A bitter laugh mingled with her tears. She saw Carl now for the insincere poseur that he was—him whom she had thought decent and clean. For the first time there came over her a sense of shame—a feeling of guilt. She wondered how Mrs. Daquin would take it. Mimi determined resolutely that if there were a scene or recriminations of any sort she would leave and never return.
From below came the sound of Mrs. Daquin’s voice, calling her. Mimi dried her tears away and went down. Mr. and Mrs. Hunter sat in the parlour. Behind them stood Carl, his head down. Mrs. Hunter rose and attempted to take Mimi in her arms. Mimi evaded her.
“You poor, dear child!” Mrs. Hunter consoled her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hunter, but I don’t need any pity—it’s your son who needs it more,” Mimi told her. Her voice was hard, flat, cold.
Mrs. Hunter was not to be deterred. “But you and Carl must get married right away and save your name. When the baby’s nearly here, you two can go off on a long trip. Oh, dear, I’m so terribly upset—I almost feel like I’m the guilty one, pleading with you to save him—”
Back and forth the discussion raged. Mr. Hunter urged. His wife pleaded. Mrs. Daquin stormed. But Mimi remained firm. …
After they had gone Mrs. Daquin took her turn.
“You silly little fool. You’re crazy. You’re going to get these crazy notions out of your head and marry Carl. I never in all my life heard of so silly a thing as this idea of yours. What if Carl is a weak and worthless scamp? Any kind of a man for a husband is better than none when a girl’s in your fix. …”
On and on she
